


Lethal Foresight

by paradoxmachine



Category: Deadly Premonition | Red Seeds Profile, Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradoxmachine/pseuds/paradoxmachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Jack Harkness is summoned to investigate a small-town murder of a young woman, only to find there are holes in his memory, and that the situation may be more than he can handle on his own.</p><p>Featuring Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones, and a cast of characters that allude to Deadly Premonition's originals.<br/>The plot, likewise, is made to mirror Deadly Premonition's while being its own story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jack and Ianto

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoralitySucks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoralitySucks/gifts).



  **Prologue**

She was beautiful, even in death.

The body was strung up at the top of a tall cross-shaped post, arms held out at her sides like some sort of grotesque scarecrow. Morning sunlight lit her pale hair with a halo of gold, the breeze tugging at its long coils as well as the remnants of her red silk dress, torn apart at the chest. Her breasts were left bare, and between them weaved the remnants of trickled blood. It stained her torso in a sheet down to her waist.

Tears streaked her cheeks. Jagged red gashes tore open her throat. But even still, she was beautiful.

Silhouetted against the morning sun like that, he thought she looked like an angel. 

* * *

  

“Talk to me, Ianto.”

Captain Jack Harkness stood at the top of a ravine, long coat billowing out behind him as he gazed out into the distance. A fine mist dusted around him from the waterfall at his back, a raging torrent that plunged down and into a vast river which weaved between the trees, visible for miles before it disappeared into the cloak of foliage on the horizon. He’d gotten his tip to come here from an anonymous source, but even if the case lead nowhere, it would be nice to be out here.

Out in the middle of nowhere, away from everything he wasn’t ready to confront.

“Ianto, can you hear me?” Jack repeated. He reached up to tap the com in his ear,  which crackled briefly before Ianto Jones’ voice finally greeted him in familiar welsh tones.

“Did you have a nice trip?” Ianto said, with just a hint of amusement in his voice. Jack opened his mouth to respond, but found he didn’t really have an answer. There was something unsettling about the question, but he quickly dismissed the feeling, writing it off as a stomachache from something he’d eaten the night before.

 “What can you tell me about my location?” Jack asked, brushing it off.

“The town is called Redwood Valley,” Ianto responded, straight to the point. He spoke as if reading off a list. “It has a population of under 5,000. There was a brief boom in the lumber industry some years before, but the mill has been shut down, and the town is funded mostly on private investments now.”

“That’s not shady at all,” Jack said, with a crooked grin that no one could see.

“…Jack,” Ianto said, his tone shifting to one of concern. “Are you sure you’re alright being out there alone?”

“Ah, but I’m not alone,” Jack said cheerily, tapping his earpiece. “I still have you.”

\---

Jack could almost swear he felt eyes following him as he took the long journey around the forest path to the entrance of town. He could imagine the wind carried breath, and that the crackle of fallen leaves was that of talons digging into the ground.

The town of Redwood Valley was surrounded entirely by forest. Though the temperature was warm and the season still summer, the valley’s trees held their autumn tint throughout the year, creating a literal red woods. The sun filtering through golden orange and scarlet leaves  gave the scenery an odd, almost unnerving tone to it.

There was a heavy shuffle of leaves behind him, making Jack’s skin crawl. His hand twitched, almost going for his holster before thinking better of it. Instead he turned with a dramatic swoop and met the eyes of a young man, mid-twenties with short, dark hair. The man surveyed him distrustfully, eyes narrowed to slits through which he could see only slivers of very light, grey-blue eyes.

“Good morning, officer!” Jack greeted, noting the uniform.

“Good morning, Mr. Harkness,” the officer said, in patient tones.

“It’s Captain,” said Jack, “But you can call me Jack. Are you the one I’m scheduled to meet?”

The man shook his head. “Sheriff Stiff will be joining us shortly. I’m the Deputy, Victor Ames.”

“Nice to meet you, Vicky,” Jack said, shaking his hand firmly. “I’m sure we’ll be _great_ friends.”

Victor’s palms were sweaty, Jack noticed as he took his hand away. Was he nervous about something? Increased perspiration, racing heart, and yes- slightly dilated eyes.

Jack pressed his hand up to his ear, over his com.

“I think he likes me, Ianto,” Jack said with a smirk. The Deputy watched him impatiently, raising an eyebrow.

A second set of footsteps joined them from the same direction as the first, and another man appeared from out of the trees. The Sheriff was a short man with a grizzled complexion and a very fine moustache. Jack met his scowl with a charming grin. It was amazing how much he looked every bit the small-town Hollywood Sheriff, only minus two feet in height. Small town indeed. Judging from his demeanor, Jack doubted he had anything below the waist to make up for it, either. Still, he might be good with his hands.

“We’re sorry for the inconvenience,” Stiff grumbled, “But you might as well go home. We can handle our own problems, Agent _Harkness_.”

“It’s Captain, but please, call me Jack.” Jack’s grin held strong. “You don’t have to worry about inconveniencing me. I can carry out the investigation myself.”

“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it. You don’t have the authority to-“

“I have the authority to do just about anything I want.” Jack shrugged. “With or without your assistance, or permission. But I wouldn’t mind a ride into town.”

Jack shot the Deputy a knowing glance over the Sheriff’s shoulder, and winked.

Victor cleared his throat. “We’d be happy to provide a vehicle, but how exactly did you get here, if you don’t mind my asking?”

There it was again, that subtle twitch of unease at the back of Jack’s mind.

“It’s been quite the hike,” Jack said dismissively.

The Deputy paused to examine his face searchingly, but there were no hidden cues to be found there. He sighed, then said finally, “We’re parked half a mile out from here. Follow me.”

Victor gave a flourish of his hand and turned. Jack noticed to his satisfaction that the man had an excellent bottom.

“Ianto, look at the way he walks,” Jack whispered.

“Don’t think of this as an invitation to stick your nose into things, _Agent_ ,” Stiff said, obviously wrangling for the last word. “Redwood’s hospitality doesn’t extend to pushy foreigners worming their way into places they don’t belong.”

Jack smiled, staring challengingly into his dark eyes. “Duly noted.”

\---

As Jack drove to his hotel, he found himself longing painfully for the old Torchwood SUV. The vehicle he’d been lent at the station was decidedly less stylish, just a standard-regulation white police car. It would have taken more than a paint job and some flashy lights to fix the thing up, never mind all the gear it was missing.

“Bet we could still strap some rocket boosters to it, though,” Jack said, thinking aloud.

“I think you’ll be waving your rocket around town plenty without,” came Ianto’s voice into his ear.

“Spoil all my fun, why don’t you?”

It felt like a ridiculously long drive, even worse so than the drive into town. Redwood Valley really wasn’t built for tourists. This thought sprung to mind again as he entered the parking lot of the “Redwood Inn.” It was a small building, well kempt, but with only a few dozen rooms.  Jack had to wonder if a hotel like this was really built for guests at all, or if it was made exclusively to house the urges of Redwood’s roving spouses.

“Looks cozy,” Jack said, leaning against the car.

“That’s one word for it,” said Ianto.

Jack laughed and closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of the setting sun and the scent of the trees. He let himself hope that maybe this case had nothing to do with aliens after all, and he could just relax and enjoy the setting. Pretty town. Pretty local boys who had never seen anything like him. It could be fun. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he’d had fun.

The bushes behind him rustled, and he heard the sound of snapping twigs. Jack immediately had his gun out of its holster and aimed, hands steady, eyes searching. He wasn’t here on a joy ride. There had been a murder here, alien or not.

Jack scanned the edge of the forest carefully, eyes and ears straining. Whatever it was had sounded big, larger than an animal. He had a split second thought that it might be a jungle cat, maybe a tiger, perfectly camouflaged in the flamboyant scenery.

He saw a flash of catlike eyes among the branches.

And then nothing. With a breath like a sigh, Jack lowered his gun and turned back to the hotel.

\---

Jack lay in his bed with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling. He imagined he could see constellations in the plaster relief, galaxies and stars hosting far-off worlds. The universe had once seemed so inviting and full of life, but lately it had become dull for him. He’d roamed among the stars and planets, and found in them nothing where there had once been so much light.

Jack couldn’t remember when that spark had gone out.

“-Ianto,” Jack said suddenly. He was covered in a cold sweat, his eyes unfocused and his breathing ragged. Jack staggered to his feet and pressed his hand to his ear, panic curling in his stomach.

“Jack?” Ianto answered. He sounded groggy.

Jack laughed as relief rushed through him in a wave.

“Jack,” Ianto repeated, sounding mildly annoyed this time.

“Sorry,” Jack said, still laughing. “Bad dream, or something. Never try Blowfish goulash.”

“Try and get some sleep, Jack,” Ianto said with a yawn. “If anything happens, I’ll be here.”

Jack nodded and crawled back under the sheets. The bed was far too cold.

\---

He was kneeling in the center of an empty room, stark white walls almost blinding in their brightness. It felt like his head was being split in two, his whole body littered with piercing needles. He felt himself screaming, but couldn’t hear it.

“-d, I’m so sorry,” came a bleary voice. He could feel hands stroking his hair with thin, delicate fingers. He drew in breath to scream again, but the hands forced his mouth closed and clamped over his lips. “Shh, if anyone hears you, we’ll all be dead.”

Jack squinted to try and see anything through the blinding light.

He could see nothing but long, dark eyelashes and transparent eyes.

\---

Jack was awoken by a cascade of glass, the shatter still echoing in his ears like the remnants of a dream. Jack rolled out of bed for the second time that night, this time instantly alert and scrambling for his gun. The plastic shutters on the window had been torn off, and shards of glass stuck from the window frame at odd angles.

There was a thump from the opposite end of the room. The nightstand crashed to the ground, and then suddenly he could see it, looming up over the side of the bed. Scythe-like talons slashed out toward him, long black nails protruding from humanoid hands. He caught the flash of moonlight on long needle-like teeth as he staggered back.

The creature dodged the first shot. Cheap plaster broke from the wall as the bullet ricocheted, kicking up dust. Long quilled spines rippled on the creature’s back, and it hissed. Jack got his first good look at it as he aimed his second shot. Anthropoid, with pale skin, dark hair, and glinting silver eyes. It snarled and leapt again, but this time the bullet connected. It flung the creature back against the bedframe with a thunk. Blood spattered the wall. Jack leveled his gun for another shot.

But the creature was fleeing. It leapt through the window and back into the night, taloned feet clacking on concrete. Jack flung open his door and moved to follow it, but already it was out of sight. There was a red splattered trail leading into the trees. He followed it, but beyond the tree line the trail disappeared, impossible to keep track of.

“So much for a good night’s sleep,” Jack said, laughing dryly.

“The sun will be up in about an hour,” said Ianto. “Call it an early morning?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Jack said, trying fruitlessly to dust the plaster from his hair.

“Well then,” said Ianto, “You take a shower, and I’ll make the coffee.”

“You know I love it when you talk dirty,” said Jack.

* * *

 

> Prologue: **CLEARED**
>
>> TOTAL Number of Days: 1  
>  TOTAL Enemies Defeated: 1  
>  TOTAL Number of Continues: 0


	2. The First Body

**Chapter 1**

Jack sat staring into his morning coffee and thinking. Ianto’s coffee tasted fantastic as always, but there was something strange about it that he couldn’t quite place. It smelled foreboding, like a warning. Well. It was just like Ianto to put a warning in his coffee, but it wasn’t much help if he didn’t know what the warning was _for_.

He was just about to ask if Ianto had any ideas when the answer came to him, clear as a fresh spring morning. “AMES.” The letters swirled in the cream, the lines twisted, but it was unmistakable.

“Ianto, you’re seeing that, right?”

“Ames,” Ianto said aloud. “Isn’t that the surname of our new friend, the Deputy?”

“What does it mean, though? Be wary of Ames? Ames knows something?” Jack shrugged and took a sip. “Maybe we’re reading this wrong, and this is actually gaydar coffee. The coffee says ‘get his number.’”

“I’m sure that’s it,” Ianto said, and Jack could almost hear his eyes roll.

Jack smiled. “You know, this is a damn fine cup of coffee.”

“I do my best, sir.”

\---

Jack arrived at the scene of the crime just as the sun was peaking over the tallest of the trees. The place had been wiped almost clean despite the murder taking place only days ago, with only remnants of yellow police tape tangled in the fences. The poles that the body had been hung on stood ominously over the open area, rusted red. Jack wondered why they had been so eager to clean a place as remote as this so quickly, if not to hide evidence.

“Small town police play it strictly by the book, eh?” Jack said, pacing leisurely around the clearing. “Any info on the girl?”

“Looks like her name was Nim Sudo, 18 years old. She’d just finished highschool, and was working at the local diner.” Ianto hummed. “That’s it. That’s all I can find.”

“What, no medical records? Legal records? Nothing?”

“Not a single speeding ticket or case of the sniffles listed here. Either Redwoods isn’t keen on writing things down, or something’s being hidden.”

Jack hummed and crouched down next to the post. There was no blood to be found as far as he could see. The body had probably been moved here after the murder had already taken place.

“Looking for something?”

The voice came from behind him, but Jack didn’t bother getting up to look around. He recognized it as Sheriff Stiff, from the day before.

“I would be, but your men seemed to have cleared the area,” Jack said, rising to his feet and gesturing broadly.

“We’ve already been over the place a dozen times, Agent Harkness. Any evidence here has already been found.”

“You’d think that,” Jack said with a grin, “But you’d be wrong.”

He reached into a pocket of his overcoat and brandished a tiny metal device with a clear lens.

Jack pressed his hand up to his ear. “It’s a residual heat tracking device. We can set back the timer and be able to find anything that had an abnormally high heat signature around the time of the incident. It’ll tell us, for instance, if anything that had been touched at the time has been left behind.”

Jack thumbed back a time setting on the device’s handle, and then held it up over his eye. Immediately his vision swam with color, and he had to fight down nausea. It hadn’t been built for humans, and the information he was seeing was a little much to process all at once. He closed his eyes, opened them again, and slowly everything came into focus.

There was very little heat registered on the post, which confirmed his suspicions that the girl had already been dead when she’d been strung up. Footprints invisible to the naked eye wound around the area, those more recent glowing brighter than the others. Whoever had brought her here hadn’t stuck around long afterword, or had left and come back later. There was a second set of footsteps fresher than the other, lingering and winding around the clearing.

Jack squinted and forced himself to look at something other than the ground. The color of the trees seemed to scream in his head, so many different shapes shifting in the breeze. A few of the leaves seemed brighter though, neon white. Moving toward them jack realized they weren’t leaves at all, but bits of torn cloth that had been caught in the branches. There was a mark on the same tree as well, a dimly outlined handprint. They’d been in a hurry to get here, then, and were careless enough to get caught up in the trees.

Jack carefully scanned around the perimeter again, but couldn’t find anything else that seemed relevant. He could see the heat signatures of where birds had rested, and the tracks of animals, but he doubted a gaggle of forest friends had assisted in the crime, other than to maybe take a nibble of the corpse.

It was disappointing, but coming up here hadn’t been entirely pointless-

Jack reached up and grabbed his head. He’d put the scanner away, but pangs of pain hadn’t faded, and had instead gotten worse. He gasped as he lost control of his footing and fell to his knees. His vision was blinking out, flickering into a glare of white.

And then suddenly it was gone, but the world around him had changed. All the color had faded to black and white, and though he could move, the Sheriff appeared to be frozen. He couldn’t hear anything, but he could see the breeze still moving in the branches. Then he saw something else, _someone_ else, a cloaked figure moving out through the trees.

He was wearing a red rain coat, and in his arms was a tarp wrapped around what could have been a body.

This was him. This was the killer he was looking for.

“Jack. Jack, are you-“

“-Okay?”

Ianto’s voice faded into someone else’s half way through. Jack opened his eyes and found himself lying in the dirt, leaves in his hair, staring up into the face of the Sheriff.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just-“ Jack groaned as he tried to sit up.

“You just collapsed out of nowhere,” Stiff said. He didn’t offer a hand to help him up.

“Yeah, well, it happens to the best of us,” Jack said, dusting off his coat. What had that been? Some sort of hallucination? It felt like a memory now, like he’d actually been there, but foggy like he’d had a night of heavy drinking just before. Right now it felt like he had the hangover to go with it.

Jack groaned again and rubbed his forehead. “Ianto, check the records for last time it rained here.”

“Just the other night,” Ianto said. Jack felt the tension ease slightly just by hearing his voice. “The other night, right before the...”

“Right before the body was found,” Jack finished.

“I don’t see why that matters,” Stiff said impatiently.

Jack didn’t offer him an explanation. As far as he was concerned, Stiff had no part in the investigation.

“Where do I go to see the body?” Jack asked instead.

“Redwoods Hospital,” Stiff said, narrowing his eyes. “But you’d have to be quick. They’re cremating the body later this evening.”

“Thanks for your help, Sheriff,” Jack said, flashing a brief grin before he turned to walk back down the path to his car. He had places to be, things to see, and no time to play with a stiffy.

\---

Deputy Ames was there to intercept him as he arrived at the hospital, leaning casually against a decorative fence leading up to the front doors. He rocked away from the fence and hurried toward him like he was greeting a friend, all smiles and handshakes, but Jack knew that he was only here to babysit him.

“It’s a good thing you got here when you did,” Victor said, patting him on the back. “You were almost too late.”

“Yeah, would have been great if someone had warned me about this last night,” Jack said, smiling back. He stepped past him and pushed through the doors. Follow away, Jack thought, but don’t think for a minute that you’re the one leading this case.

“I sincerely hope we haven’t started off on the wrong foot,” Victor said, striding determinedly after him through the entryway and down into the labyrinth of hallways. “I know the deputy can be a hard-ass, but I assure you that- Captain. Sir, do you even know where you’re going?”

Jack stopped in his tracks at a set of intersecting halls, all of which looked identical.

“What do they need such a large hospital for?” Jack asked, tapping his ear.

“Farming accidents?” Ianto offered. “It must be easy to get hooved while bonding with the animals.”

“Maybe you should lead the way,” Jack said to Victor with a challenging smile.

\---

Redwood Hospital’s autopsy room was tucked away in a far corner of the basement, unmarked on any of the maps as far as Jack could tell. Their only medical professional was a woman in her late twenties, with pixie cut blond hair and a pair of thin rimmed glasses. She averted her gaze as Jack entered the room, busying herself with a clipboard and a pen that she tapped idly against her lips.

“Afternoon, I’m Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack said with a grin that made her curl further over her clipboard, like a turtle retreating into its shell.

“Good afternoon, I’m, um, I’m…” she blushed. “Doctor Fred Martens. It’s um, nice to meet you.”

Jack stepped forward and reached for her hand, and when she sheepishly offered it in return, he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Martens,” Jack said, as Fred hid her face behind her clipboard.

Victor cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything.

“Ianto, I think he might be jealous,” Jack said, his eyes lighting up.

Victor held his authoritative stare, and cleared his throat again.

“This is a morgue, not a pub,” Victor said flatly, his eyes floating down to the covered table before them. Jack wondered if the man had ever seen a dead body before. Redwoods didn’t seem like a place with a lot of violent crime. “Let’s focus on the investigation, and leave the fraternizing for another time.”

“Of course,” said Fred, her heels tapping on the linoleum as she moved to the side of the table and drew back the cloth.

Nim Sudo was a quirky looking young woman, with wide-set eyes and pouty lips. Jack looked at her fondly, thinking that she reminded him of someone he once knew; someone singled out for her beauty in a secluded area.

“She was such a nice girl,” Fred said, gazing at her in distant melancholy. “Everyone loved her.”

“Time of death?” Jack nudged, now wondering if _she’d_ ever seen a dead body. This side of the petri dish was so fresh and innocent.

“Right,” said Fred. “J-judging from the state of rigor mortis, the murder is estimated to have taken place between the hours of 20:00 and 22:00. There are cut marks on her back and shoulders, and several wounds on her neck that appear to be inflicted by…” she paused for a moment, biting her lip. “Teeth. Some sort of animal, probably. Sir, is it possible that this might not be a murder after all? Could it have been just an animal?”

“Keep going with your report,” Jack said with a reassuring smile. “I’ll find whoever did this, man or beast.”

“A-alright,” she swallowed thickly. “The cause of death was blood loss from the throat wound. No signs of a struggle. Also, her tongue appears to have been cut out with some sort of blunt weapon. And there are signs of… something in her blood. An unidentifiable substance. Drugs, maybe. That would explain why she didn’t fight back.”

Jack tapped his collarbone pensively, comparing the information with what he already knew or assumed.

“What time did it stop raining on the night she was murdered?” Jack asked turning his gaze on Victor.

“Was it raining?” Victor said, shifting. “I don’t really notice things like that.”

“Just past one in the morning,” Ianto answered, in his stead.

“Thank you,” Jack said, leaning down over the body. “I’m going to examine the body myself now, if that’s alright with you, Ms. Fred.”

The doctor nodded, flushing pink again.

Jack smiled and then looked away, scanning carefully over the cadaver before him. She had long, well maintained fingernails, painted black. Her hair was wavy and silken, the light of the autopsy room bleaching it almost white. Under her eyes, mascara had run to coat her cheeks as she cried in thick black smudges.

Jack leaned closer, and then unceremoniously stuck his finger into the girl’s mouth, drawing back her lips.

“I once dated a guy who kissed like that,” Jack said, “Never let him go down on me, he probably would have-“

“Bit it off,” Victor said, staring at the body and not at Jack. “Whoever did this, they bit off her tongue, didn’t they?”

The light in the room flickered brightly, and for a moment Jack was blinded. Then he saw the body change, and she was suddenly wearing a torn red dress, blood oozing sluggishly from her throat and congealing into a thick red puddle on the table. She sat up from the table and draped her arms around him, leaning in to kiss him, her eyes open and brilliant silver blue.

Jack covered his mouth with a tiny gasp. Fred and Victor were staring at him. Nim’s body was back on the table, still as it had been when he got here. Silver eyes. He steadied himself on the table as he looked first into Fred’s eyes, and then into Victor’s. All of them, silver eyes. Them, and the creature that had attacked him, as well as-

He saw just a flicker of her face as he was looking into Victor’s. Long dark eyelashes and startling silver eyes.

“That’s what it looks like,” Jack said, reorienting himself. He stared at Victor for another long moment, and then turned away, pressing his fingers up to his ear. “Ianto?”

“Present,” Ianto chimed, chipper as ever.

“Sounds like the murder took place somewhere indoors,” Jack whispered to him. “Judging by the state of her clothing and her oral situation, I’m assuming she went there willingly and probably had some fun before she died. Then after the rain had stopped, the killer took her out and strung her up, then left her there for someone else to find. Victor, who was it that found the body?”

“A young man named Blaire Falls, he used to go to school with Nim before he dropped out.”

“Is there any way I can get an address?”

Victor frowned at him. “…Of course.”

“Now then, if you excuse me, I think I need another coffee.”

* * *

 

> Chapter 1: **CLEARED**
>
>> TOTAL Number of Days: 1  
>  TOTAL Enemies Defeated: 1  
>  TOTAL Number of Continues: 0


	3. Another Death

**Chapter 2**

Jack’s footsteps were uncomfortably loud in the echoy hallway. He walked with his hands in his pockets, whistling, and becoming increasingly more and more lost. All the signs read like gibberish, and the anatomy posters looked more like a time lord’s than a human’s. Small town, one doctor, and no wifi.

“You wouldn’t happen to have blueprints you could pull up for me, would you, Ianto?” Jack asked, sighing as he rounded another corner into another indistinguishable hallway.

“Not a single thing in the database.”

Jack trudged on. It couldn’t be possible to get lost forever in a hospital basement. As he walked, though, the lights were getting dimmer. Some of them were flickering, making his shadow jump on the walls. Jack braced himself for another headache, the hair on the back of his neck prickling with an eerie chill. But the headache never came.

Instead, it appeared as if the walls were cracking. Dark lines snaked across them, darting _toward_ him, and suddenly Jack realized they weren’t cracks at all. They were thin, dark tendrils, curling around each other and squishing between the tiles, moving and throbbing like they were alive and maybe breathing.

Jack pulled his gun from its holster, but there was nowhere to aim. He stepped backward as the vines pulsed toward him, darting like vipers. Jack took a shot at the thickest of them and it recoiled back, showering Jack in a torrent of blood. It writhed on the floor, but the rest of them were still coming at him.

Before he could turn and run, there was a hiss from around the corner and suddenly something else was charging at him from down the hall. Several somethings, a few feet tall, lanky, with pale flesh fading into black rubbery skin. Their heads and bodies were covered in spines, and they were on all fours, charging at him at top speed.

Jack unloaded five shots, flinging creatures back with every hit. Blood poured in spurts from their wounds as they collapsed. Something oily and viscous bubbled out of their mouths and down their chins, staining black trials through the pools of red like chocolate sauce in melted ice cream. One of them reached him, claws slashing out. They caught on his shirt and tore it open in a single jagged line above his nipples. Jack pistol-whipped it off of him and fired the last bullet straight into its skull.

He reloaded quickly, and braced himself for a second attack. But it never came. The creatures were still pouring into the hallway, but they seemed to have lost interest in him. Instead they were prodding at their companions, long tongues lolling out to lick the wounds and the blood from the ground. They nudged at the corpses and nipped at raw flesh, peeling meat away from bone in long strips with their needle-like teeth.

Jack covered his mouth. It was time to go.

He turned, but something caught on the leg of his pants. He looked down to see a pair of silver eyes glaring back at him, a creature with its rib cage blasted open, but its long taloned claws clamped around his legs. It opened its mouth and spit a gooey paste up into his face.

Immediately his skin was burning. It sizzled and stung like acid, in his eye and over one side of his face. Jack screamed and crushed the creature’s head with the heel of his other boot.

He wiped the goo with his sleeve as he ran, but it was sticky and only clung to the cloth as well. The smell of his own flesh burning was sickening. But he’d survived worse. The hard part would be finding his way out of here _now_ , with one eye and still no idea of where he was going.

Then suddenly he was standing in front of an elevator. He mashed the button, gun hand still pointed down the hall. He could hear their nails clicking on the tile floor, but he couldn’t tell if they were moving toward him.

The door opened and Jack staggered inside, jamming the button for the first floor, then easing back against the elevator wall. He rummaged in his pocket for a handkerchief, wiping roughly at his face. The wounds would heal; the important thing was getting it off before it caused more damage.

The elevator sang at him in soothing jazz while he wiped away as much of the blood as he could, before slipping the cloth back into a pocket.

“Well that was fun,” he said.

The elevator door slid open.

In the reception room, everything was exactly the same as it had been when he came in. Welcoming and hospital sterile, not a twitching black tentacle in sight.

“Get in a fight with a door knob?” Victor said, rising up from one of the posh, clean chairs. “You look like you’ve just run a marathon.”

Jack looked down at his clothing, still splattered in monster blood, and with a hole in the sleeve where the acid had burned through. Leisure sports wasn’t the first thing he would have jumped to.

Jack grinned at him. “You’d be surprised at how many places you can find a good physical activity.”

Victor leaned in close, squinting at his face. “You’ve got a blister, or a bruise or something on your cheek. Wait, no… no, it’s gone. Must’ve just been a shadow.”

Jack laughed. Victor’s lips were tantalizingly close to his, something a man with less self-control than him would have taken advantage of. Ianto wouldn’t approve.

Victor cleared his throat and took a step back. “Say, Captain, isn’t it getting a little bit late for a house call? How about we save our visit to Mr. Falls for tomorrow, and tonight you- you have dinner with me.”

Slowly, Jack grinned. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“To discuss the case, of course,” Victor said, ears turning faintly red.

“Of course,” Jack said, smirking. “Your place, or mine?”

“There’s a diner not far from here,” Victor said, avoiding his eyes. “It’s the place where Nim used to work. You might be able to get a lead talking to some of her old coworkers.”

“Ianto?” said Jack.

“It’s up to you, Jack,” Ianto said. “I’m not going to hold you back.”

“Who’s-“ Victor tried to interrupt. Jack was glad it didn’t give him time to contemplate the wording.

“Please don’t ask me about Ianto,” Jack said, looking him straight in the eye. “That’s a… private matter.”

“Whatever you say,” Victor shrugged.

“Now about that date.” Jack opened the double doors with a flourish, and waved for Victor to go out first. Victor hesitated in the doorway, and it took Jack a moment to understand why. “Oh come on, it’s just a little rain.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor said, eyes wide. “We don’t actually… go out in the rain.”

“You don’t go outside when it’s raining?” Jack said dubiously. “Why don’t you just get an umbrella, or wear a raincoat?”

“We don’t wear raincoats,” Victor shifted awkwardly. “It’s just- there’s an old superstition about a killer who comes out in the rain, wearing a red rain coat. It’s just a myth, but it’s part of the town’s history, so nobody goes out when it’s raining. All the shops close, school gets cancelled, and people just stay home. That’s just the way it is here.”

“That’s why he’s so uncomfortable. I’m making him wet,” Jack whispered to Ianto, trying hard not to laugh at his own joke. “I understand. I’ll meet you there after the rain stops.”

Jack quirked a smile at him, and then let the door close.

\---

There might be a rational reason not to go out in the rain, Jack thought as he fought his way through the downpour. The windshield wipers were probably working harder now than they ever had before in their life, and still it was difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. It didn’t really matter, though. If Victor was right, no one else would be on the road.

Then, as if just to spite him, something rammed into Jack’s car with a massive thunk. The car swerved in a full circle, breaks screeching. Jack was thrown roughly into the door.

It slammed into him again, and this time the car flipped over, the roof skidding on the asphalt. This never would have happened in the SUV, Jack thought. Blood was dripping down from his hairline and he felt insanely dizzy, but the next blow to the car might crush it entirely, and he didn’t want to be inside when it happened.

It wasn’t until he was rolling on the grass that he thought that maybe it would be better to stay in the car and get crushed to death. The eyes of the beast were looming over him, 20 feet in the air, saliva dripping profusely from a stout maw.

“Hey now, Fluffy,” Jack said, taking a step back. The creature looked like a cross between a toad and a rottweiler, but ten times the size. It lurched toward him, mouth gaping open, teeth each as long as his forearm. “How about we talk this out? You can have the car, and I’ll take a hike. Sound good?”

A low echo rumbled in the creature’s throat, and Jack didn’t think it sounded like an agreement. Then it made a choking sound, head bowed, and knocked him into the air, over a fence, and into a field. The air left Jack’s lungs in a gust, his body seizing up.

And then suddenly he was in agony. Something other than the rain was drenching him, something slimy and yellow-green. Pain prickled sharply through every part of his body. Then it was upon him, jaws sinking into his torso. Jack groped for his gun, but he could barely see. He aimed, pulled the trigger, and heard it connect- but the beast didn’t even recoil.

Jack screamed as it pulled sharply, pain rippling through his middle, a weight lifting off of him. He squinted through the rain to see his own intestines spilling out of the beast’s mouth. He screamed again, but already he could feel his head growing foggy and his limbs cold as the blood poured from his body. He couldn’t move, not to shoot or even to scramble pointlessly away. It didn’t even hurt anymore.

Silver eyes.

Looking into silver eyes, Jack died.

\---

With a gasp like breathing razorblades Jack woke again, sprawled in a field with his clothes torn open and his blood staining the grass and mud around him.

“Ianto?” he said, clamping his hand over his ear.

“I’m here,” Ianto said, though his voice sounded fuzzy and far away.

“Ianto, please,” Jack choked.

“I’m here, Jack, it’s going to be okay,” Ianto said, and this time his voice was clearer.

Jack gave a ragged sigh, and forced himself to sit up. He felt like he’d been hit by a train, but at least he was in one piece. _Now_. He holstered his gun, and crawled to his feet. Most of his shirt was gone, his pant leg torn, blood and slime staining most of his body.

The rain had stopped. It was time for his _date_.

“Oh gosh, I’m going to be late for the prom!” Jack said, shambling back to the road. No car. No means to contact anyone.

But then, ten minutes down the road, he was rescued by a prince riding a majestic white steed.

“Agent Harkness, are you okay?” Sheriff Stiff said, pulling over to the side of the road and rolling his window down.

“Fine and dandy, thanks for asking,” Jack said, grinning at him.

“You look tired,” Stiff said, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s your car?”

“I’d like to borrow yours, if you don’t mind,” Jack said, leaning nonchalantly against a fence post.

“This is ridiculous!” Stiff said, throwing his hands into the air.

“Don’t worry, I’ll drop you off at the station,” Jack said, patiently tapping his chest.

Stiff pursed his lips for a long minute, before he finally opened his door and got out, leaving it open for Jack.

\---

Jack stopped at his hotel room, thinking that at the very least he should take a shower. Inside it was just as he’d left it- blood on the walls, glass on the floor. But curiously, the blankets on the bed had been changed, and a fresh set of clothes had been laid out for him. Stranger still, there was a wad of money placed delicately in the center with a note pinned to it that said plainly, “Headshot Reward + $200.”

Jack didn’t question it.

Fifteen minutes later he was once again clean and pristine, sporting fresh clothes except for the coat. Without Ianto here to dry clean it, he wouldn’t be able to get out the stains, but he decided it didn’t matter. It was crucial to his ‘look,’ and besides, nobody else seemed to notice it.

He arrived at the diner with no idea how long he’d been out, but was pleased to find that Victor was still there, waiting for him.

“Miss me?” Jack chimed, sliding onto the seat next to him.

“Not too much,” Victor said, with a small smile. “I knew a gentleman like you would never stand me up.”

“A gentleman indeed!” said Jack. “I’ll pay for dinner. You go ahead and order whatever you like.”

“In that case I’ll order the steak dinner,” Victor said with a wink. “Kidding, I’m a vegetarian.”

“They always are. Into musical theater?”

“Haha, gay jokes,” said Victor. “I love it. Also, yes. Hey, Noel, I’d like to order the usual, and this man here would like the steak dinner and a couple of beers.”

A person of questionable gender with shaggy dark hair, and pants on under a polkadot dress nodded at them from behind a counter, leaning over to write down their orders. Jack got an excellent view down the front of her dress, and noticed that Victor was checking out her funbags as well.

“Would you like to sample the new jelly biscuits?” Noel offered.

“I’d love to sample your jelly  biscuit,” Jack said with a smile.

“I’d love to sample your penis,” said Noel, “But I’m working. Noel Feathering. You?”

Jack looked at her, whistled, and then winked. “Captain Jack Harkness. What time do you get off?”

“We’re actually on a case right now,” Victor reminded him.

“Look what you’ve done, Jack, you’ve made him pout,” said Ianto.

Jack grinned and leaned forward with his elbows on the counter. “Actually, he’s right. What can you tell me about Miss Nim Sudo? Vicky tells me she worked here before her death.”

“I dunno,” Noel said, “She was really pretty, and friendly. Everyone liked her.”

“So I hear,” said Jack. “Tell me, did you notice anything strange during say, the week before she died? Was she acting strangely, or hanging around people she wouldn’t normally associate with?”

“I don’t spy on my coworkers, man,” Noel shrugged. “It’s a small town. She could have been seeing anyone that night.”

“Seeing?” Jack pressed.

“Listen, I’m not saying Nim was a slut. I’m saying she was sexually liberated with a whole bunch of people.”

Noel smiled. From the other side of the room, a bell chimed as someone else entered the diner. Jack looked up to see what could have been one girl holding a mirror. They were twins, with long, perfect blond hair parted on opposite sides, and matching suits, one with a blue tie, the other a green one.

“That’s Charlotte and Adelaide Strait,” Victor explained quickly. “Their father used to own half the town, and after he passed away it was the two of them that inherited it. They stay out of other peoples’ business for the most part. Not very social.”

“I bet they’d socialize with me,” Jack said. He could almost feel Victor’s eyes boring into him, and so he quickly added, “If I wasn’t on a date, I mean.”

“As part of an investigation,” Victor insisted.

“You keep saying that,” said Jack. “It’s like you don’t want me to kiss you tonight.”

Victor was blushing in his ears again. “Well, I mean, after the investigating’s over…”

“I could investigate you,” Jack said. He put a hand on Victor’s cheek, leaned over, and kissed him. Jack could feel the heat radiating off his face.

From the corner booth, one of the twins spoke up. “We’d like to order our meal, now. Two turkey, strawberry jam, and cereal sandwiches.”

“That sounds horrible!” Victor said, grimacing.

“It’s not that weird,” said Jack. “I eat cranberry sauce on my turkey. Don’t you?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Victor shrugged.

From across the room the other twin looked up and smiled at Jack.

“We’ll talk to you later, Captain Harkness,” she said. “Once you are ready.”

“What does she mean, ready?” Ianto said in his ear. “If they know something, they should just tell us.”

“Everything in its time, Ianto,” said Jack.

Noel disappeared into the kitchen, then returned a couple minutes later with Jack and Victor’s meals. Jack noticed Victor’s salad smelled a little fishy, but he didn’t question it. Weird, but whatever, though.

“So what do you think,” Jack said, to Victor. “My place, or yours?”

“I think you need to rest for tomorrow,” said Victor. “You look tired.”

\---

Jack ended up driving back to his hotel alone, despite the night’s chemistry. He recounted the day's events in his head, trying to fit it all into some sort of order. Jack strongly doubted that all the attacks had been coincidence. He was realizing this was so much bigger than that. There was something going on underground and it needed to be dug up now, before any more people died.

\---

Lying in a bed surrounded by bits of window and wall and furniture, Jack wished he wasn’t sleeping alone tonight. It had actually been a while since he’d died, and though the memory of it never faded, he wished someone had been there to help him stand when he woke up. He missed his team. He missed…

“Ianto.”

“Hm?” Ianto said. Jack could hear the weariness in the single sound, and could see him in his mind’s eye, half asleep and worrying himself awake. Jack was the only one Ianto had ever told about the weight he carried on his shoulders, and even so, Jack knew there was still so much more he _hadn’t_ told him.

“Go to sleep,” said Jack. “I’ll be with you when you wake up.”

\---

_“Listen to me, I need your help.”_

The voice weaved into his subconsciousness, belonging to a person that he couldn’t see. Too bright, he thought. He opened his mouth to say so, but nothing came out.

“I’m sorry, but I need you to _listen_.”

Jack nodded soundlessly.

“You have to kill them all, Jack.”

* * *

 

> Chapter 2: **CLEARED**
>
>> TOTAL Number of Days: 1  
>  TOTAL Number of Snogs: 1  
>  TOTAL Enemies Defeated: 1  
>  TOTAL Number of Continues: 1


	4. Blood and Rain

**Chapter 3**

Jack Harkness awoke to the smell of coffee, a scent that always left him feeling bittersweet and nostalgic. He turned away from the glare of sunlight to roll out of bed, blinking open his eyes, and for just a moment he forgot where he was. He had the nagging feeling he had somewhere else to be, another place, or time. Why had he come back to earth, anyway? No- why had he left in the first place?

Jack ran his fingers through his hair, and sighed. He’d worry about it when he was done wrapping things up here. If it was really that important, Ianto would have told him by now.

He righted the chair next to the small desk in the corner, slouched into it, and sipped his coffee.

“Ianto, is there something wrong?” Jack asked, setting down the mug.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” said Ianto.

“I mean, the coffee. Your coffee’s tasted different ever since we got here.” He paused, “Well no, it’s been the same, just… off. I’m wondering if it’s something to do with you.”

“I’m fine, Jack, really.”

“I know, I know,” Jack sighed. The denial only made it worse, because there definitely _was_ something wrong, something _off_ , and Ianto wouldn’t open up about it.

Jack didn’t have time to pursue it any further, though, because that was when he realized he was being watched. It was hard to see because it was lying so still, but as always the eyes gave it away. A creature crouched under his bed, scraggly hair in its face, spines pressed flat against its back.

Jack pulled out his gun and shot through the mattress without hesitation.

The creature wailed and scrambled out from under the bed. But it wasn’t moving toward him. Its quills caught in the sheets and it stumbled, smearing blood in the carpet. It struggled to get upright, but Jack had the gun pointed at its face. The creature held eye contact with him as it pulled free of the blankets, leaving several of the long quills behind. Then it sniffed, looked away, and jumped out the window.

Jack crouched down to examine the quills, which were barbed, and leaking murky yellow-green pus. It looked similar to what the creature that had rammed his car, (which he was now mentally referring to as a “bulldog,”) had spit at him the day before. Some kind of paralyzing venom, with a cute little side effect of lighting all your nerves on fire. Between that and the acid the smaller ones had spit at him, Jack was not very fond of these creatures’ fluids.

“Good morning to you, too!” Jack shouted out the window.

\---

After finishing his coffee, Jack left to find the address Victor had given him to talk to the witness that had found the body. He was surprised to find that not only did Blaire Falls the “highschool dropout” live on the up side of town, but that Redwoods Valley had an uptown at all. With how frugal the larger part of the town was, he hadn’t expected to see giant, fancy houses the size of mansions. On closer look, though, many of them appeared to be abandoned. Redwood’s token flaxen-colored lawns had become overgrown and browned, and red ivy snaked around both the trees and the buildings. Many of the windows had grown foggy with dust.

The Falls manor was one of the largest buildings, but unlike the others it was well kempt and almost gleaming in excess.

Jack knocked firmly, and waited. He knocked again. Still no answer. After waiting almost four minutes, Jack decided he’d given plenty of time for someone to answer, and took matters into his own hands.

Into his own foot, actually. Jack slammed his boot into the door with a sharp kick. The door made a quiet cracking sound, but didn’t splinter, and definitely didn’t open.

Jack stared at it. It was a door not of this earth.

“Someone’s a little ahead of his time,” Jack said, with a quirk of a smile. “I could still open it if I had the tools, but darn it, I left my sonic screwdriver at home.”

Oh well. Jack decided he’d come back later.

\---

In the meantime, there was someone important that Jack had yet to meet with, and an important place he hadn’t looked at.

“It looks like Nim Sudo lived with an older cousin,” Ianto informed him. “Her mother died when she was born, and her father died in an accident at the lumber mill.”

“That’s odd,” said Jack. “I didn’t realize it had been closed that recently.”

It probably wasn’t important.

Jack pulled up in front of the house, which was much less impressive than the last one. It looked very small for two people, and was almost as rundown as the abandoned buildings on the other side of town. One of the windows was open, and out of it wafted a scent of something that might or might not be legal in this part of the country.

Jack knocked on the door, and listened inside as someone leisurely got up to answer it. As the door opened, Jack was overcome by a wave of smells trying to cover up other smells and failing.

“Ay,” said a man in a red Hawaiian shirt, with short dark hair and impressive sideburns. He looked to be about twenty-five.

“Hey there, I’m Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack said, extending a hand, though the man didn’t seem to notice. He was staring very intently at Jack’s face. “I’m here to look for leads concerning Nim’s death.”

“You’re very pretty for an FBI agent or whatever,” the man noted. “People should get murdered here more often. I’m Merry.”

“You sure look that way,” Jack said, patting him on the shoulder. “Wait, Merry Sudo?”

“No, Merry Weeds. Nim’s related on her mam’s side.”

“Merry Weeds?” Ianto said incredulously. “Seriously?”

“And that’s your real name?” asked Jack.

“I’m just living up to destiny.” Merry shrugged. “Who am I to fight that?”

“He sure seems lighthearted for a man who’s just lost a close relative,” Jack said, hand to his ear.

“Smokin’ away the tears,” Merry said. “Speaking of, come inside. I need another hit.”

Jack followed Merry into the house, and watched as Merry settled himself back into his gaudily colored couch. The TV across from was showing only a handful of odd static images on a few second’s rotation, one of which was the weather, which said only “AFTERNOON SHOWERS” with a frowny picture of a cloud.

“So, what can I do for you?” Merry asked. He punctuated his sentence with a pipe to his lips.

“I need to know what you know about the circumstances surrounding Nim’s death,” said Jack, pacing the small room. He noted that there were nails hammered into the walls, but no photographs hung on them.

“I don’t remember,” Merry said. “I don’t remember any of it. I’m sorry, that’s not very helpful, but I don’t.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“She said she was going to meet a friend. Nim had a lot of friends. She was very pretty.” Merry looked away. Though he was a tall and not exactly petite man, he almost looked transparent. Nim’s death had hit him harder than it first appeared.

“Thank you,” Jack said, after a long pause. “Merry, I know this might seem rude, but can I have a look at Nim’s things? It might give us some invaluable insight into the case.”

“Go ahead,” Merry said with a dismissive hand gesture. “It’s the door on the right. It’s not locked. All her things should be right where she left them.”

Jack smiled his sad smile, and turned away.

\---

Nim’s room looked very typical for that of a teenage girl. It was simply decorated and a little bit messy, with the scatterbrained zen of a girl who knew where everything was, despite the incomprehensibility to an outside eye.

But the room was small, and Jack knew all the places to look. There had to be a hidden panel in a drawer with a diary in it, or a book with the inside of its pages cut out.

Jack began his investigation, but found neither of those things. In the closet, he found drugs. In the dresser drawers he found more drugs. There were drugs hidden between the mattresses, and tucked in pockets and shoes. Jack couldn’t tell if this was normal for teenage residents of Redwood, or if Nim was the largest drug dealer in the town.

Then, under the bed, he found something else. It was a large box of many varieties and colors of sex toys. Another impressive collection for a small town.

“Look inside the vibrators,” Ianto said suddenly.

“Should I even ask why you’d think of that?” Jack said, shaking the box.

“Just check inside the battery compartments,” Ianto insisted. “There might be something inside.”

Jack picked one out at random. It was vivid scarlet, and made vaguely in the shape of a pine tree. He screwed it open, and to his surprise, a key fell out into his hand.

“Ianto Jones, you’re a genius!” Jack said, turning it around in his fingers.

“I like to think so,” Ianto said, with polite welsh smugness.

Jack looked more closely at the key, and saw that there were tiny letters inscribed on it. “BF”

“Boyfriend?” Ianto offered.

“Or initials,” said Jack. “B.F. Blaire Falls. We’ve just found our way in.”

\---

As Jack drove back along the same roads to get to Blaire’s house, he found himself stricken with an almost dizzying sense of dread that he couldn’t place. The feeling didn’t even feel like it belonged to him. It was something else, a sort of deadly premonition. Something was happening, and he was too late to stop it.

Jack realized that what he was feeling was guilt.

He stepped on the gas, desperate now to get there faster, but many of the roads in Redwood seemed to curve around pointlessly. Even from where he was he could see the road turning back in the opposite direction, less than half a mile away in a straight line.

Slowly, Jack grinned.

“This is a terrible idea,” he said.

“This is a wonderful idea,” said Ianto.

Jack swerved hard right and into the field. The shoddy police car whined in complaint as they bumped along rocky ground, lurching this way and that.

“Haha!” Jack said triumphantly. The tires kicked up dirt as he skidded back onto the road, showering down behind them in a thick layer of dust, but that wasn’t his problem. Redwoods’ roads were curiously well maintained. And if the car broke down, he could always get another one from Stiff.

Now, though, they had a bigger problem.

Almost as if the sky had draped a curtain over them, it was raining.

Raining in impenetrable sheets. Jack’s mind flashed back to the sound of that bulldog. A low, guttural bellow. Hampered vision or not, he slammed on the gas, pushing the car for all that it was worth. Turning on the sirens would have made it go a little faster, but he was terrified it would help the monster find him.

There was a thump.

And then another. Jack’s eyes widened as he saw them. They were just as they had been in the hospital, but now all of their skin was slick and black. They were rising in masses out of the ground, their heads drooping loosely, hair sticking to their wet bodies. Their bones cracked deafeningly loud as he ran them down. Babump- babump. They were impossible to avoid, even if he wanted to.

“I think I’m going to hurl,” said Ianto.

“Don’t lose your lunch in the car,” said Jack, “Stiff’ll kill us.”

Jack slammed on his breaks, just in time to hit a fence. It crumbled and he drove right through, only to crash into a house and come to a jarring stop.

“Ride’s over!” Jack said, laughing as the adrenaline coursed through him. “Everyone out!”

Jack flung open the door and rolled out dramatically, landing crouched on his feet, gun at the ready. The rain hissed loudly in his ears. He prepared for one of the creatures to leap at him at any moment, but nothing came.

“I was wondering when you’d get here!” said a familiar voice. Jack looked up to see Victor standing under an awning, arms folded and shivering.

“Hey, Vicky! Fancy meeting you here,” Jack said, getting up and wiping the mud off of his coat. He was already drenched to the bone, and found himself wishing for- well, not a raincoat. But a poncho would be nice. Besides, it was impossible to be unhappy in a poncho. “I thought you didn’t go out in the rain.”

“I was already here when it started,” Victor said, wide eyed. “Somebody called in an anonymous tip, but no one’s answering and I can’t get the door open.”

“Lucky for us, I have a key,” Jack said, pulling it from his pocket and waving it around triumphantly.

“Well then, open the door!” said Victor.

Jack strode past him and slid the key into the lock. The door swung open easily.

As he stepped into the entryway, Jack felt that insurmountable feeling of guilt returning.

“Stay here,” he said, putting a hand on Victor’s chest to hold him back. “Ianto and I will look around first.”

Jack circled around a long, arching stairway, and down the hall. He instinctively knew where to go. Already, he could smell the blood. Still, he grimaced as he entered the room and saw it. It was everywhere, a massive pool on the bed that oozed down onto the floor and-

And trailed under another doorway, like someone had been dragged. He could hear the sound of running water, a hiss that could almost be mistaken for the rain.

Jack fearlessly flung open the door, but he gasped a little when he saw what was inside.

The boy was about seventeen, with pale hair and feminine features. He was sitting propped up against the wall of the shower. His torso had been split open from the chest down, organs spilling out, blood running in a river down into the drain.

Where the shower water hit his body, bits of skin were peeling off.

Pale skin flaked from his forearms and his legs, clumping together in squishy mounds. Underneath, the skin was slick and black. Jack couldn’t see them, but he would have bet his eternal life that his eyes were silver.

Suddenly, the body choked and retched forward, convulsing.

“Ianto- he’s still alive!” Jack rushed to his side and knelt down. “Blaire, answer me. Who did this to you?”

Blaire choked again, his eyelashes fluttering. He gasped in a ragged breath of air.

“A…ahh…” he said, hacking out the sounds. “Ahhhhh….hn…. ammm…. ssss.”

“Ames?” Jack asked urgently.

Blaire gurgled pathetically. He slumped forward into the pile of his own organs and skin with a squelch.

“What’s going on in here?” Victor said, running into the room. He froze, and put a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god. Is he-“

Jack reached out and put his fingers to his neck, just in case, but of course there was nothing.

“He’s dead, Vic.”

Victor gagged and turned away. He looked like he might vomit. With the shower still running and Blaire’s body still slowly bleeding out, Jack stared and Victor from behind. He’d been here the whole time. Ames. It was so obvious, so obvious that he didn’t want to believe it.

The door creaked. Jack looked down. It took him a minute to process what he was seeing. Two white cats had just waltzed into the room, one with blue eyes and a blue collar, the other with green. They meowed simultaneously, and nudged his legs.

Jack’s head ached. He flinched and staggered back, covering his eyes. He could see them. He could see Blaire, and Nim, and another girl he didn’t recognize with long, black hair. They were smiling. Nim was laughing, and reaching for Blaire’s hand.

Then it was over.

“Call this in,” Jack said, not looking at Victor. “I need to go.”

* * *

 

> Chapter 3: **CLEARED**
>
>> TOTAL Number of Days: 1  
>  TOTAL Number of Snogs: 1  
>  TOTAL Enemies Defeated: 19  
>  TOTAL Number of Continues: 1


	5. A Warm Body

**Chapter 4**

Jack sat under the awning in the rain, watching the lurching forms of creatures scuttle around just outside of clear view. If Victor didn’t see them, then he doubted anyone else could; and if they really were all aliens, people and monster alike, then it didn’t _matter_ if anyone saw. Maybe there were bigger ones out there, like those from the hospital but fully grown. Maybe the townsfolk crawled around during the downpours, the water washing away the skin of their disguises.

“Is this really even our case, anymore?” Jack asked contemplatively, tapping his chest. “This isn’t an isolated attack, or even a serial case. It’s a whole _conspiracy_. If everyone here is an alien, shouldn’t some _alien_ FBI agent handle it, or something?”

“You’re really going to give up?” asked Ianto.

“I’m saying it isn’t our problem. I don’t think it was to begin with. Look around. This isn’t Cardiff. The rest of the world isn’t my responsibility, there’s somebody else who covers that. Sometimes. When he _feels_ like it.”

Jack felt resentment gurgling up in his chest like venom, into an aching rage, but he pushed it down. He didn’t want to feel that way. He didn’t want to confront _why_ he felt that way. “Besides, I’m not even FBI, I’m freelance, remember?”

“People here are being murdered. Human or not, they need your help.”

“What do I do next, then?” Jack said, head in his hands. “Torture Vic into a confession?”

“You have another crime scene to cover,” said Ianto.

Jack sighed. He ran his hands through his hair. And then he got up. None of this should have been surprising, but he felt like he was being toyed with now. Lured in and prodded and poked by an unseen force. Captain Jack Harkness really did not like being used.

“First, we should figure out what we’re really up against. The usual big claws and big teeth. Venomous quills, bites, and saliva. And some of them can be really, really big.”

“That’s a start,” said Ianto. “Did you notice there’s not a single person here over 30? How much control do they have over their shapeshifting, do you think? Can they appear any age or sex they want to? Can they impersonate another of their kind? Things like that.”

“Maybe they eat each other when they get too old.” Jack shrugged. “The wee little juniors got pretty distracted once snacktime started.”

“That reminds me,” said Ianto, “As cute as your nicknames are, Jack, I think we should start naming them for organization’s sake.”

“Good ol’ Ianto,” Jack said, patting over his ear endearingly. “And you have some ideas, right?”

“I assume you’re set on Bulldogs for the big ones, right? Well. I was thinking “Spitter Crickets” for the little ones. No idea yet for the adult ones. They might just tell us.”

“I’m pretty settled to call the little ones “Speed Bumps” myself, but I must agree, yours has a certain charm to it.” Jack gave a crooked smile.

Jack felt a little bit better now. He’d let himself get a little lax on the job, and accidentally gotten invested in the actual comings and goings of Redwoods. Everybody here were supposed to be suspects, not friends. It wasn’t like him to lose track of things like that. Being emotionally removed was his _forte_.

“Okay,” Jack said, standing up and dusting off his longcoat. “Let’s go pick around in the dead boy’s toys.”

\---

Jack opened the front door again to find Victor still waiting in the main room, leaning against the wall with his head bowed. Jack wondered if he knew Jack suspected him as the murderer. He looked so earnest now, trapped in a  house with the body of someone he might once have called a friend. Jack patted him on the shoulder, and he looked up.

“I thought you were leaving,” Victor said, raising his eyebrows at him. “Backup won’t get  here until the rain stops, and I can’t go until then.”

“I just needed to clear my head, that’s all,” said Jack. “I’d like to get my hands on this crime scene now, though, before anyone else can tamper with it. Every person in this town is a suspect, including the police.”

“I can understand that,” Victor said. “I’ll just stay in here, then.”

“Thank you,” Jack said, bowing out back into Blaire’s bedroom. The room stank of the taste of iron, so strong it was almost suffocating. Jack put a hand over his mouth to keep his head clear. Now was the ideal time to look for direct clues. A murder weapon, normally- but Jack had a hunch that a creature with talons wouldn’t really need a knife.

He had to think. This body, like the last, didn’t show any signs of a struggle despite the obvious pain the victim had endured. It was possible though that the perpetrator had paralyzed him with the same goo the bulldog had used on him, and it had just washed off in the shower. It was also possible that the body might have other wounds, pinpricks from the aliens’ needle-like quills.

That might be helpful for preventing another death, but it gave him no clues about who it was that had done it, other than the victim’s last words. He also hadn’t been able to find a motive for either attack.

There could be clues in the room, though. Hopefully more than in Nim’s because, as far as he knew, Blaire lived alone.

“Aha,” Jack said, only moments later. There was _always_ a secret compartment in a drawer. He pulled out a thin little notebook in a leather casing. It was engraved with letters on the front. “BNC.” Jack had no idea what this might be an abbreviation for, unless it was initials for a polyamorous relationship, which was completely possible. Blaire, Noel, and Charlotte? Or Nim for N, most likely.

Jack opened up the notebook. There had to be more clues inside.

And there was, sort of. No secret plans. No day to day diary entries. Just pages upon pages of sex dreams. A few of them were in different handwriting, but other than that, nothing of use.

Sure, it helped confirm that Redwood played it loose with monogamy, but that wasn’t surprising.

“There has to be something,” said Jack. “Blaire was still alive when we got here, if only barely, but it’s been raining since before we arrived. The killed must have rushed to get out of here, and probably left something behind.

“Or he’s still here,” Ianto said, tauntingly. “The phonecall’s coming from inside the house, Jack…”

“Oh you,” said Jack. “Come on, we don’t know for sure that it’s him.”

“Maybe I didn’t mean him,” said Ianto. “Maybe there’s someone else. Maybe they’re watching from inside the vents.”

Jack paused for a moment, and seemed to consider. “Nah, these things are pretty loud and not very coordinated. Still, we should probably search the rest of the rooms before the rain stops.”

\---

“Hello again, friends,” Victor said, lounging over the stairwell.

Jack smiled as he passed by, and dipped into a few more rooms off the main room.

“Did you hear that, Ianto?” Jack said. “He thinks you’re his friend, now.”

“I’m thrilled,” Ianto said boredly.

“Come on, you love friends,” Jack said, moving from the hallways to the echoing kitchen. “Entertaining people you don’t actually like is practically your favorite pastime.”

“That is absolutely true,” said Ianto.

“You’re lucky sarcasm is a turn-on for me,” Jack said, peeking inside a cupboard. Nothing. No one hiding in any traditional manner, anyway, but these aliens might be able to do all sorts of things he didn’t know about. It might have flattened itself out and went right through a seam in the wall.

“Jack?” Victor’s voice called from the other room.

“Victor,” Jack said, coming back to the entry room. “Remember those cats from earlier? I think they might have taught the killer how to phase into walls.”

“That sounds completely reasonable to me,” said Victor. “Listen, the rain is calming down, and Deputy Stiff and a few Officers will be down here shortly. It’s up to you if you want to stick around.”

“I want to keep looking,” Jack said. “One more go in the bedroom. I must be missing something.”

\---

Jack would have bet a turn of naked hide and seek that Ianto would be impressed by the state of Blaire’s closet. Everything was hung up neatly, with suits in sets toward the back, and everything else arranged by style and color nearer the front. Hung inside the door was a quaint little mirror, and a very impressive tie rack.

“Your hero, right?” Jack pressed.

“If I was seventeen,” Ianto said. “Which I am not. Wait- Jack- look a little closer.”

Jack did as he was told, rustling through the racks idly until he saw what Ianto was talking about. Once he’d spotted it, it seemed so obvious. A dress, tucked back into a far corner. It had tripped him up, because anywhere else it wouldn’t have been a surprise.

“Ianto, I don’t think…” Jack said, turning it over in his hands. All along the back of the dress was torn thin, jagged holes, all the way from collar to where the tailbone would be. Jack stuck his finger through one and out the other, contemplating it carefully. There was something familiar about it.

He’d seen this same dress before.

It had been worn by that waitress at the diner, the cute cheeky one. It was the same one, exactly. Black polkadots on a white fabric, with a black collar.

“She could have slipped right out into the rain,” Jack said, gently rubbing the cloth with his thumb. “She was in such a hurry her dress tore on her alien bits while she was taking it off. And then, she was mostly naked when she went down on the victim- kinky, but I’ve done worse. It makes sense though, Ianto. That’s why he didn’t struggle until it was too late.”

The door cracked open.

“What’s happening?” said Victor, wrinkling his nose.

“We’ve just found Noel Feathering’s dress at the scene of the crime,” Jack said.

“Oh my god,” said Victor. “I’ll call it in and have them hold her for questioning.”

“Not suspicious,” said Ianto.

“Shh,” said Jack. “Don’t worry, I  have a plan.”

\---

“So,” said Jack, sitting on the hood of Victor’s police car. He watched the other officers as they scrambled around the scene, taking pictures and putting up “DO NOT CROSS” tape all willy nilly. “Let’s have a serious talk.”

“How serious?” Victor asked, standing patiently across from him.

“Very serious,” said Jack. “I’m never not serious.”

“Sounds serious,” said Victor. Jack smiled.

“Okay,” Jack said, “I want you to think about this very carefully before you answer.”  Jack waited for Victor to meet his eyes. “Would  you like to come back to my place and have a drink?”

“I’ve just seen a man with his liver on the floor, Jack,” Victor said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m hardly in the mood.”

“That’s exactly my point,” said Jack. “Things are getting intense, and I think we should all have a break. A little wine, maybe some dancing…”

Victor sighed. “Alright, fine, but let’s make it my place. I’ve been to those hotels you’re staying at, and they’re not very good for dancing.”

Jack winked. “Okay. We’ll take your car, then. I prefer to drive, but I don’t mind taking someone in the back seat.”

“You’re a dirty man, Harkness,” Victor said, climbing in shotgun.

\---

Victor’s apartment smelled a little bit like spilled whiskey. Jack noticed it almost the second he walked through the door. Judging solely by the scent, Jack deduced that Victor had probably been pretty drunk, fairly recently.

Other than that the apartment was meticulously clean, decorated in a theme of wood and glass. It was exactly the sort of house Jack had subconsciously expected.

“You’re serious about the wine, right?” Victor said, sliding open a liquor cabinet built right into the wall. Judging by it, Jack could’ve been sitting in a bar. “Red or white?”

“Red, please,” Jack said, settling himself in on a long, fancy couch. Victor poured their glasses and sat down next to him, setting the bottle on the coffee table.

“So, tell me a little about yourself,” Victor said, sipping his drink. “You’re the real mystery around here. People don’t often come to Redwood, and a single murder seems hardly the occasion for an… agent to be sent out.”

“You’re a nice guy, Victor Ames,” Jack said with a smile, “But I don’t do interviews.”

“Of course not,” said Victor, shaking his head, but he was smiling too. “I actually like that. The air of mystery, it suits you.”

“I get that a lot,” Jack said, setting down his glass. It was half empty. “What about you?  How does a man like you end up in a place like this?”

“Born and raised,” said Victor, taking another large sip. “Both my parents were from here. Well, I assume. I never knew my father, and my mother’s…  She’s not around anymore.”

Jack watched as Victor impressively finished off his glass, and then poured another.

“That must’ve been hard,” Jack said, because it was the right thing to say.

“I’m over it,” Victor said. “It’s in the past, and _I’m_ here. Here and now is all that matters.”

Jack gave a quiet laugh. If only it was that easy.

“I can tell that you’re hurting, Jack,” Victor said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And that it isn’t old wounds. Something happened to you before you came here, something that can’t be fixed.”

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it, Jack. You don’t want to know.

Jack put a hand up to his forehead.

“…Yeah,” was all he said.

“I just want to make sure all this flirting isn’t a coping mechanism. I don’t want to make it worse.”

Jack laughed. And then he laughed again. He laughed so hard that, for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. “Oh Vicky, that’s the one thing that’s always been there. Don’t worry about _that_.”

Victor laughed quietly, and blushed.

“Ianto, what do you think?” Jack said, putting a hand to his ear.

“What can it hurt?” said Ianto.

Victor leaned over, and kissed him. Jack kissed back, forcing all other thoughts to the back of his mind. Don’t think about the past. Don’t think about Redwood. Think about Victor’s lips, his hands, his warmth. Ignore the ache in your chest like being suffocated, and then coming back again.

“Is it time for the dancing, n-“ Victor tried to say, but Jack’s mouth cut him off.

Jack reached for Victor’s belt. There was a soft click, as Jack fastened his handcuffs through the slates of the couch. But he kept kissing him, rough and insistent, hands pulling at his clothes.

“Jack,” Victor panted, arching up against him.

“Ianto,” Jack breathed back.                 

\---

“So, when are you going to untie me?” Victor mumbled sleepily.

Jack gave a small smile as he dressed, looking down on Victor sadly.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “Blaire was still alive when I found him. I asked him who the killer was, and he said it was you.”

“What?” Victor said, with pleading eyes. “You can’t honestly believe that.”

“I didn’t know for certain until I took your shirt off,” Jack said, putting a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “Something broke into my hotel room earlier, and I shot it. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that scar on your chest looks _pretty_ recent.”

“Oh come on, that doesn’t prove anything. You haven’t been here long enough for a bullet wound to scar over.”

“Some aliens heal faster than others,” Jack shrugged.

“So I’m an alien now?”

“Maybe you’re a were-alien, I don’t know. Whatever you are, you’re not human.”

“And you’re just going to leave me here until Stiff comes for me?”

“I can’t trust him either,” said Jack. “I’m going to find the truth, and I’m going to do it alone.”

Victor sighed quietly.

“Well,” he said. “It’s a good thing I thought ahead.”

“Thought ahead to what?” Jack said, raising an eyebrow.

“To the slow-acting paralyzing venom I injected every time I bit you.” Victor shrugged. “Nothing personal. I was going to pretend I spiked your drink, and then do a bit of bondage interrogation myself.”

Jack laughed. He kept laughing as his vision blurred, and his legs gave out.

“Sexy,” he said, and then he lost consciousness.

* * *

 

> Chapter 4: **CLEARED**
>
>> TOTAL Number of Days: 2  
>  TOTAL Enemies Defeated: 19  
>  TOTAL Asses Tapped: 1  
>  TOTAL Number of Continues: 1


	6. A Ghost's Eyes

**Chapter 5**

“-k up.”

Thin, delicate hands were stroking his hair. Jack shifted and groaned quietly.

“Wake up.”

Jack’s body glowed with a dull numbness. Trying to move, even a little bit, felt like being struck by lightning. All of his limbs felt rubbery.

“If you don’t wake up before he gets back, bad things will happen to you.”

“Is that- a threat?” Jack choked, fighting to open his eyes. That stung, too, but he could just make out through bleary eyes-

Slivers of silver, and long, dark eyelashes.

Jack gasped and sat up, ignoring the tearing jolts of pain.

“-You!” he shouted. “You’re the one who… who…”

Jack held his head. He couldn’t remember anything else. He could see her lips moving in his mind’s eye, but couldn’t make any sense of it. Something to do with...

Nothing. There was nothing there.

Jack tried to blink away the pain, and very slowly, his eyes came into focus. There was a girl kneeling above him, with her hands on his chest, and her long black hair draping over both of them like a curtain. Jack realized two things, at almost the same time. First, that she was very pretty; second, that he was still nearly completely naked.

“Good morning to you, too,” she said, smiling just a little.

Jack looked around the room, the events of the night before slowly returning to him. There was a dark stain on the carpet that he first thought was blood, but then realized was actually spilled wine. He was handcuffed to the couch. Victor was nowhere to be seen.

“Who are you?” Jack asked, rubbing his head with his free hand.

“Let’s just say I’m a friend,” said the girl. “My name is Clare. I’m here to rescue you.”

Clare put her hands on both sides of his face, and before Jack could even register what was happening, she was kissing him. He felt something salty and sickly-sweet flood his mouth.

“Good morning _indeed_ ,” Jack said, grinning.

“It’s just anti-venom,” Clare said, face reddening. “Pull your pants on, and then I’ll remove the handcuffs for you.”

“I love a woman who takes charge,” Jack said, doing as he was told.

The girl smiled again, just the tiniest quirk of her lips.

“It might be better if you don’t watch this next part,” she said. “It’s a little bit… embarrassing.”

Jack winked, and looked away. From that direction came a series of odd clicks, then a scratching noise, and a snap. The cuffs came free, and Jack’s arm slipped away. When Jack looked back at her, Clare was brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Is it everyone, then?” Jack asked, rubbing his wrist and getting to his feet.  Clare watched him as he dressed but her gaze, astonishingly, never left his face.

“Aliens?” she answered. “Yes, as far as I know of.”

“An entire town of aliens masquerading as humans,” Jack said, putting on his coat. “Huh.”

“We call ourselves the Ericius,” said Clare. “Well, those of us who aren’t completely insane.”

“You’re saying most of Redwood doesn’t know they’re not human?”

“I’m saying that sometimes when people get mouthy, they disappear.”

Jack hummed, frowning. He put a hand to his ear. “Nim Sudo didn’t disappear, though. She was very obviously murdered. Blaire Falls, too.”

“Somebody’s trying to make a statement,” Ianto said.

“The question is, what?” said Jack.

“Um,” Clare said, shifting awkwardly. “I don’t mean to rush you, but you really don’t want to be here when Victor comes back.”

“If he was going to kill you,” said Ianto, “Why wouldn’t he do it while you were unconscious?”

“I think I can handle him,” said Jack. “But I have other things to do. You wouldn’t happen to have a car here, would you?”

\---

Every single second of disappointing driving he’d experienced in Redwood was immediately forgiven the second Jack stepped into the garage. Clare, it turned out, drove a black ’65 Ford Mustang.

“Hot damn, I can’t decide whether to drive it, or suck it off,” Jack said, turning to thank her, but when he looked, Clare was gone. She’d left the keys in his hand and the garage door open, though, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

“I still think it could use some blue flashing lights,” Ianto said, as they hauled ass toward the station. The weather was pleasant and the skies were, (thankfully,) clear, so Jack drove with the windows down and the gas pedal glued to the floor. He turned the windshield wipers and left turn signal on, because for some reason, it felt inexplicably _right_.

“Ianto, I wish you could feel this!” Jack shouted, though his voice was drowned out by the wind.

“Can you imagine what it would do to my hair?” Ianto said, and Jack swore he could _hear_ his smirk.

“Seeing you rumpled is like seeing you naked,” Jack said, “Except that I see the latter more often.”

Jack rolled smoothly into the police station parking lot, looking suave and cool in his fancy new automobile. As he stepped out of the vehicle his coat swished dramatically behind him. Cool theme music played in his head.

“Don’t be nervous,” said Ianto. “I’m sure the interview will go fine.”

Jack grinned and dramatically entered the building.

\---

“So,” Jack Harkness said, from across the table. “I need to know, are you a serial killer?”

“Absolutely,” said Noel Feathering, who was fixing her hair. “Well okay, no, but that would be pretty badass.”

“I love your jacket, by the way,” said Jack. “It would have gone nicely with your dress from the other day.”

“I reinvent my style every day,” Noel said with a shrug. “Most people do. It’s called ‘changing your clothes.’ Not that I mind seeing that coat on you twice.”

Jack smiled and leaned toward her, elbows on the table. “Blaire Falls was found dead in his house last night. That dress was found at the scene of the crime. Now tell me, how did your dress get into a dead man’s closet?”

Noel giggled. “How did my what? No it didn’t, it’s on the floor in my bedroom. Somewhere.”

Jack reached into one of his pockets, and pulled out a series of photos which he scattered across the table. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not, I’m really not,” Noel giggled some more. “I’m not the only one with that dress, Jack. That’s the school uniform. For the girls, I mean, but it really wouldn’t surprise me if that were his.”

“That’s what we get for assuming, Ianto,” Jack said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

“Thinking about it,” said Ianto,” Every seventeen year old boy probably has at least one dress hidden in his bedroom.”

“Oh? Tell me more,” Jack said, smirking.

“Well, it probably helps narrow down your suspects?” Noel said, leaning on her elbow. “Blaire dated Nim in school. I would’ve said so earlier, but she dated a lotta people in school.”

“I knew it. The “N” was for “Nim.” Tell me Noel, was there anyone with a “C” name involved with either of them?”

“A few. There was this girl who hung around with both of them for a while, but she didn’t go to school much. It was pretty shady, but whatevs.” Noel shrugged. “Her name was Clare, but she died in an accident.”

“Oh good,” said Jack. “Damn it, Ianto, if my new car’s a ghost car I’m going to flip a table.”

“Er,” Noel said, raising her eyebrows at him. “You’re… not talking to me, are you?”

“I’m talking to Ianto on my headset,” Jack said cheerily, tapping his ear.

Noel tilted her head at him and narrowed her eyes, frowning slightly. “You’re… not wearing one? There isn’t anything in your ear, Jack.”

Jack’s hand stopped mid-motion, hovering awkwardly as he stared at her.

“…I have to go,” he said, standing up.

“Wait-“ Noel said, standing up and reaching after him. “You’ve left something.”

Jack turned, right into Noel’s embrace. She stood on her toes to kiss him, and reached around to grab his ass.

“Sorry,” she said as she slipped away, but she was grinning. “Would’ve killed myself if I didn’t do that.”

“This is why they keep you behind bars,” Jack said, grinning back.

Something brushed past Jack’s feet as he opened the door to leave. He jumped back in surprise, just avoiding stepping on its tail. A second later, another one joined it. The two white cats swiveled around his feet before slinking off to curl around Noel’s boots.

“It’s going to be really funny when you die tripping over the foreshadowing cats,” said Ianto.

Noel shrugged. Jack shrugged back, and left the room.

\---

Jack skidded to a stop in Victor’s driveway, hair windswept, and sporting a new pair of shades. There was no guarantee that ghost girl would be here, as she was supposedly a ghost, but he had no other leads. And with Victor on the run, waiting here was probably his best bet. The coffee had warned him, after all. He really should have trusted it.

Jack held his gun at the ready as he entered the house, prepared for anything, except for what he saw. Everything inside the house was coated in massive, throbbing vines, each of them pulsing red-black and wriggling into cracks in the wood grain. He staggered backward but the door had locked behind him. The vines were all around him, and they were _moving_.

“Now now,  no need to get excited,” Jack said, stepping carefully over them. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

One of them snapped at him, almost playfully.

“Great,” said Ianto, “Now it thinks you’re coming on to it.”

“You know, I once dated a guy who-“

“Had a lot of tentacles?” Ianto offered.

“…Yes, that,” said Jack.

“Now might not be the best time,” Ianto said, as another nipped at the bottom of Jack’s coat.

“You’re right, let’s focus on…” Jack paused.

“Getting out of here?”

“Catching the killer,” corrected Jack. “This might be a nest, or something. Victor could be here.”

“Just don’t die, Jack,” Ianto said firmly. “We don’t know what these things might do if they gang up on you.”

“I’m guessing they’ll bathe me in acid and slurp up what’s left with little straw tongues.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” said Ianto.

Jack laughed and started up the staircase, moving very slowly. He still didn’t know what it was that attracted the creatures, other than water, which was a given. He found himself holding his breath too, just in case. As he made his way down a hallway, he noticed that some of the vines had odd protrusions on them, which got larger the further in he walked.

“Giant monster, this way,” Jack whispered, motioning enthusiastically with his free hand.

“Let’s hope it’s weak to revolvers,” said Ianto.

“I’ll wrastle it if I have to,” said Jack.

“And I’ll reserve front row seats.”

Jack peeked around a corner, hand over his mouth and holding his breath. Inside was a writhing mass of creatures, all struggling to bite into a vine that was twice the size of any he’d seen before. He decided, actually, to leave them to it.

At the end of the hall was another staircase, and Jack found himself wondering if Victor’s house had actually been this big. It hadn’t looked like it, but some things were larger from the interior.

_“Go back.”_

Jack paused. Something had sounded like an ominous whisper, but it was hard to tell. The moving walls were disorienting, and the slick sound of them moving over each other seemed deafening with them on all sides.

_“Nobody’s home, come back later.”_

Jack twitched, still creeping up the second staircase.

_“Get out of here, you doofus, you’re going to get eaten.”_

“Please tell me you hear that, too,” Jack said, a hand clasped tightly over his ear. “Hearing voices means you’re crazy.”

“I assure you, you’re perfectly sane,” said Ianto.

“Works for me,” said Jack. He could hear the creatures scampering behind him, drawn by the sound of his voice.

“You might want to run,” said Ianto.

Jack bolted up the stairs and down the upper hallway, but from there, there was nowhere to go, and the vines were still creeping around him. Circling, pulsing, getting closer together. He heard the sound of claws on wood as the “Crickets” bounded up the stairs. Jack started flinging doors open at random. And then in one, he saw a light.

A light from the sky. No, a hole in the roof. He could see that it was a hatch, and down from the hole hung a rope.

There were wide silver eyes staring at him from outside.

“I’ll have to pull the rope up when they get here,” Clare said, blinking at him patiently. “They’ll eat me, too, if they can.”

Jack scaled the rope, then sat on the roof in silence for a long moment, just watching her. Clare sat under a large red umbrella, her arms and legs curled up to her chest to keep them out of the rain. She adjusted herself, trying to scoot to make room for Jack, but large as the umbrella was, there wasn’t enough space to keep them both dry.

“It’s fine,” Jack said. “I’m waterproof.”

“You make the rain look pretty,” Clare said, smiling a little.

“Oh stop that, you’re making me blush,” said Jack. “Listen, I know this may sound insensitive after you just saved my life, but a friend of mine told me that you were dead.”

“Yeah,” she said, sighing. “That happens sometimes.”

“So… are you?”

Clare shrugged. “I don’t think so, but if that’s what everyone says, then maybe it’s true.”

“Do you need a pep talk?” Jack said, with a reassuring smile.

“Nah, I really don’t mind.” She shrugged. “Most of them are good people, they’re just batshit crazy.”

“So where do you fit in all this?” asked Jack. “Two of your past lovers are dead, and you’re sitting on the roof of the house where the most likely suspect lives. In the rain.”

“I always come up here,” said Clare. “The Seedlings only come out when it’s raining, but everyone else stays inside, so it’s the safest place to be.”

“But why this house?” pressed Jack. “Isn’t there somewhere else where you won’t have to hide in the rain?”

“The roots grow into every building,” said Clare. “It’s not safest here because of _that_. It’s safe because my brother lives here.”

* * *

 

> Chapter 5: **CLEARED**
>
>> TOTAL Number of Days: 3  
>  TOTAL Enemies Defeated: 19  
>  TOTAL Hot Cars Acquired: 1  
>  TOTAL Number of Continues: 1


	7. New Whispers

**Chapter 6**

“That’s a vague and ostentatious way to phrase that,” said Ianto.

“You’re saying that Victor Ames is your brother?” Jack said, raising his eyebrows.  “Everyone in this town’s so _generous_ with details.”

“Redwood Valley has a way of forgetting the dead,” said Clare. Jack thought back to how quickly the Crickets had lost interest in him after the frontliners had been downed. Forgetting might not be the word for it.

“Listen, I’m not discrediting your death, I’ve known a few very nice dead people, but. I’m going to need you to be straight with me. If the Ericius cannibalize their dead, why is Victor keeping his sister in the attic?”

“It’s more of a mutual agreement than a conspiracy,” said Clare. “I don’t like the townsfolk, and they don’t like me. So I stay away, and they pretend I don’t exist. I’d leave, but… people don’t leave Redwood.”

“Ominous,” said  Ianto.

“Back to Victor,” said Jack, “How would you describe your relationship? You live in his house, and… release his captives?”

“We haven’t been getting along lately,” Clare said, sighing. “People are being murdered. You can imagine how that might cause some tension.”

“How did your relationships with the victims end? My coffee told me Victor was the killer. You could very well be a motivating factor.”

“My relationships ended,” Clare said, matter-of-factly, “Because they died. If Victor’s the murderer, it means he’s betrayed me. It means I’ve lost everyone now, all at once, and it means that I really am dead. Victor’s provided for me for so long now, even a fresh Seedling could hunt me down.”

“There were no…” Jack hesitated. “ _Tensions_ , was the word you used. Nothing between yourself and the victims? Could he have been trying to protect you?”

“From Nim?” Clare said, her already eerie eyes going even wider. “She would _never_ … I don’t know about Blaire, but Nim and I were… You should understand, Jack.”

Jack chose not to comment on that. “What about Blaire?”

“Blaire…” Clare bit her lip gently. “Was closer to the fanatical side. It’s survival of the fittest, especially for the younger of our kind, and I am, well. I am not the fittest.” Nim turned away from him, looking out into the rain. “I don’t want to believe that Victor’s the killer. I don’t want to die.”

Jack, for a moment, let the rain fill the silence.

“It’s a nice story,” Ianto said. “Beautiful and tragic, but there’s something _missing_.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Clare Ames?” Jack said, putting a firm hand on her shoulder. She shuddered, and Jack felt the odd sensation of her skin _sliding_ just a little, under her dress.

“There might be another reason,” Clare said quietly. “He could have been jealous of them. Ericius don’t usually pursue non-physical relationships. I was his only friend, and if he thought I was getting distant… I think you’re right about Nim being murdered as a statement. I think she was murdered because of _me_. Jack, I think _I’m_ the killer, because it was a warning for me.”

Clare’s composure had dissolved and she’d sunk in on herself, huddled behind her knees. Jack stroked her hair gently, and her eyes fell closed.

Clare’s breathing calmed and gradually, the rain calmed too. Lazily, it dripped from the edge of Clare’s umbrella.

“I think we’re safe to go inside now,” she said, standing and balancing gingerly on the shingles. She pulled open the latch, and dropped down the rope.

Jack jumped down without it, quickly scouring the room with his eyes. As Clare had assumed, the room was free of vines. Now there was nothing left but clean, white, empty walls. No- there was something else. There was a loose panel in one of the corners.

“Ah-“

Jack looked away, back toward Clare just in the to see her slip, one hand on the rope, but the other still holding the ledge of the hatch. He rushed forward and scooped her up in his arms before she hit the ground.

“Careful,” he said, smiling at her. Clare winced, and nodded. She wriggled to get down, but stopped suddenly, gasping.

There was blood seeping through her polkadot dress, just under the ribcage.

“Oh shit,” she said, pressing both hands over it, but the blood seeped through and stained her palms. “ _Shit,_ fuck, ow.”

“What happened?” said Jack, setting her down gently.

“Just an old wound, it must have reopened.” She tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out as a grimace. “It’s fine. It’s _fine_. I’ll take care of it. You should go, before Victor gets back.”

“Let me see it, maybe I can help.”

She blinked up at him slowly.

“Well,” she said. “I suppose it’s only fair, I’ve already seen you naked.”

Then, very unceremoniously, she reached down and pulled up her dress, all the way off over her head. She was wearing nothing but panties underneath.

The wound on Clare’s stomach was a bullet hole.

“Ianto- do you see that?” Jack said, tapping his ear.

“I’m sure you’ve seen thousands of them by now, Jack,” said Ianto.

“You know what I meant,” said Jack. “It looks like the Ames’ have more in common than just their name. They like to watch me sleep.”

“It wasn’t anything weird-“ Clare said quickly. Jack raised an eyebrow. A confession was the last thing he’d expected. “It’s just easier to do _it_ from the same room.”

“You were doing it in my room?” Jack said, smirking.

“I did it from outside your window the first time,” Clare said sheepishly. “But once the window was open, it just seemed silly.”

“But what were you doing?” said Jack. He fished through his pockets, and pulled out a length of surgical thread, and a needle. He wasn’t a doctor, but he’d dealt with his fair share of bullet wounds. “Innuendo aside.”

“You never put the innuendo aside,” mumbled Ianto.

“You really don’t want to know,” Clare said, pursing her lips as he started stitching. “You really, really don’t want to know.”

“I’m glad you’re here to protect my fragile state of mind,” Jack said with a crooked smile, “But I think it’ll be okay.”

“No, Jack,” Clare said, reaching down to touch his face. “I’m sorry, but it’s really not.”

“Jack,” whispered Ianto’s voice. Jack shivered. Suddenly he really needed a snarky comment.

Jack let it drop, for the time being.

Clare bit her lip pensively.

“It’s going to be very sad when Victor kills you,” she said.

“Yeah?” said Jack.

“Get out, Jack Harkness. I don’t want to be there when he does.”

\---

The leaves were still moist, and rain still dripped slowly down his red raincoat as Victor crouched among the foliage deep in Redwood’s forest. Blood trickled down his chin, staining his face and his neck, smeared on his sleeves and gloves. The air was drying swiftly, and soon it would be safe to leave the forest, but Bulldog attacks were the least of his problems now.

Captain Harkness was hunting him down, and there was nowhere to hide that Jack wouldn’t be able to find him.

“There’s no choice now but to kill him first,” Victor said, glancing up at his companion.

Stiff stood stiffly next to him, rain dripping from his hair and down from his fingertips.

“We should have killed him the moment he got here,” Stiff said gruffly. “He was alone, and nobody knew he was here.”

“Well, he’s very nice to look at,” Victor said with a shrug. “You wouldn’t understand.”

\---

“So, Ianto, where do we go next?” Jack said, leaning nonchalantly against the Mustang.

Since staying at Victor’s house was now out of the question, they were now out of leads. They still didn’t know where the murder took place, or where to start looking. They didn’t know who else might have information. All they had was a couple of corpses and a sweetass car.

“Sheriff’s office?” Ianto offered. “It’s improbable that they’ll put out a warrant, but Victor could be there, trying to do the same to us.”

“Oh that’s right, the _Sheriff_ ,” Jack said, snapping his fingers. “He’s so close to Victor, though. I’m not sure how much we could get out of him.”

“Apparently he’s a hardass, but I believe you could chisel through it,” said Ianto.

Jack smirked. “That sounds like a challenge. Alright then, to the station.”

They arrived at the station with a pleased purr of the engine.

“Hands behind your back,” said a voice from behind him, the very moment Jack had stepped out of the car.

“Sheriff Stiff! Just the man I was looking for,” Jack said, putting his hands up and turning slowly to face him.

Stiff furrowed his bushy eyebrows at him, and fired. Jack dodged with a flourish of his coat.

“Hey now,” Jack said, “That’s no way to treat a friend.”

“Your novelty is wearing thin, Agent Harkness,” Stiff said, aiming at his head. “You’ve already stirred up the commotion we were trying to avoid. One more body won’t make a difference.”

“Hang on, what did you just say about my novelty?” Jack said, going for his own gun. “Them’s fightin’ words!”

Stiff’s bullet grazed his shoulder, but only barely. It was little more than a brief flash of pain. Jack’s shot, on the other hand, hit squarely in its mark- right above the knee. But strangely, Stiff didn’t so much as stagger back. Jack shot him again, in the chest. He didn’t flinch.

Instead, he sparked.

“Well that’s different,” said Jack. He unloaded his gun into him, and ducked behind a car.

Stiff was emitting a crackling, sizzling noise. He was jerking and twitching as he walked, his face locked in a snarling grimace.

Jack reloaded and aimed for the head, unloading into him with no reservations.

After the third shot, Stiff’s head blew up. Bits of electrical stuff rained down on them in a clatter. Jack looked away, to make sure the Mustang wasn’t getting scratched.

“There goes that lead,” said Ianto.

“It’s a good thing we’re not really FBI, or this would be embarrassing,” said Jack. “ _Now_ where do we go?”

“You don’t need to go anywhere,” said a scratchy but feminine voice. “All your questions shall be answered. You need only to ask.”

\---

If he hadn’t lived in Cardiff for so long, Jack might have thought what he saw to be strange. The woman he was looking at appeared to be far older than the rest of the townsfolk. She was dressed plainly, though her shoes didn’t match. Her eyes had an odd sort of depth to them, enchantingly beautiful.

Also, she was holding a very large dildo.

“The dildo knows all secrets of both the living and the dead,” the woman said, eyes wide. “Speak, and I shall whisper its word.”

“Okay,” said Jack, “Oh phallus of wisdom, where did the murder of the lovely miss Nim Sudo take place?”

“Oh dear,” said the dildo lady, “There’s no need to be so formal, Jack Harkness. The wizened cock of ages is learned in the dialogue of man.”

“Fine,” said Jack, “Where was she killed, and who did it?”

The woman stroked the dildo lovingly, pressing it to her face like a telephone. “It says… that it wishes you would take it on a date first, before being so frank.”

“The sex toy wants to take you to dinner?” said Ianto.

Jack smiled. “That’s nothing new.”

“But…” said the lady, “The dildo does know the answer. It is a place deep within the woods. A dark, forbidden place. It is the home of birth and death. A place bathed in blood.”

“Does this place have a name?” Jack said patiently.

“It is the mill of souls…” the woman whispered.

“Got it,” said Jack. “The root of the problem’s in the lumber mill. Any idea how to get there?”

“There is no path,” dildo lady said, stroking her artificial boner. “But there is one of clairvoyance who knows the way.”

“Clairvoyant,” said Ianto. “Cute.”

“Well,” said Jack, as he walked back to his car. “She was an odd Ood.”

* * *

 

> Chapter 6: **CLEARED**
>
>> TOTAL Number of Days: 3  
>  TOTAL Enemies Defeated: 20  
>  TOTAL Number of Headshots: 3  
>  TOTAL Number of Continues: 1


	8. Choking Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit. I just realized I never posted the last few chapters here. Hahahaha better late than never? Here's the end.

**Chapter 7**

"Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?" Ianto said, as they sped along the country roads, swerving around the few other cars when it was necessary.

"All the time," said Jack. "All I have to do is step outside, and immediately everyone is staring at me."

"That's fair," said Ianto. "But actually I was leading up to an eerie reveal."

"Right, because someone's hiding in the back seat," Jack said flippantly.

"Yes sir," said Ianto. "Just thought you should know."

Jack grinned, adjusting the rear view mirror just in time to see the flash of silver before the creature's arms were around him. It covered his mouth, claws digging into his forehead, cheek, and neck.

"This is  _my_ car, you asshat," said Victor, his snarling face pressed against Jack's ear. "You can't just take peoples' cars all the time!"

"Hff a ffvff na crr," Jack said, voice muffled. Victor loosened his vicegrip.

"I said," said Jack, "It's a very nice car."

"It really is!" said Victor. "It really, really is. I think you should park it before I tear your head off. You'll get blood  _all over_ the seats!"

Jack obliged, tires screeching as he hit the brakes going 95, flinging Victor roughly into the windshield. Victor scrambled to get back up, but Jack was already twisting the steering wheel to park delicately in the middle of someone's yard.

He rolled out the open door, coat arcing gracefully behind him.

"Sorry about this," Jack said, shooting back through the window. Blood splattered and dripped down the opposite window.

"Fuckdamn!" Victor said, shouldering the door open and bounding after him on all fours. Blood dripped down his arm from a fresh shoulder wound. "I just wanted to talk, Jack!"

Long spines rippled down Victor's back. His face had morphed into a grotesque mask with an upturned nose and protruding jaw.

"So talk," Jack said, keeping his gun level as Victor circled slowly around him. Blood was dripping into Jack's eye from a gash on his forehead, but he didn't even bother trying to blink it away.

"Why are you even here, Jack Harkness?" Victor said, his spines quivering as he shifted upright. "Redwood Valley isn't under the jurisdiction of any planet!"

"Wait, what?"

Jack stopped to ponder this. It made sense, he supposed. Nobody here had the same accent. They seemed to be chosen at random and, now that he thought about it, weren't even very good interpretations.

"I thought we were somewhere in the Pacific Northwest," said Jack.

"Northwest of  _something_ ," Victor said. "What, did you think this was really Earth?"

"Well, yeah," said Jack. "Why would anyone want to copy of a generic lumber town?"

"We just wanted to live somewhere where community values still matter!" Victor said, jaws clicking awkwardly as he talked. "Is that so wrong?"

"Community values and  _murder_?" said Jack, looking smug. "I guess that's what happens when you grow up eating your siblings."

Victor lunged at him, his head tucked, his spines bristling. He caught Jack full in the chest, and knocked him to the ground- but Jack had the gun pressed into his fleshy throat before he could so much as raise a hand against him.

"The Seedlings are barely even the same species as us," Victor said, his face close enough to Jack's that he could feel his breath. "Our lifespans are greater than a real human's. We… settle down."

"Yeah, this is settled," said Jack. His wounds had sealed, but there was still blood trickling down his cheek and onto his lips.

"Maybe if we'd met under different circumstances, you'd understand…"

Victor met his eyes. He arched his neck-

And kissed Jack.

Jack pulled the trigger.

Victor lurched back, eyes dilated in shock, the silver reduced to the edges of an eclipse. He clutched at his neck, but blood spurted out between his fingers. He was coughing and gurgling, choking on his own blood.

"Uh," said Jack, climbing to his feet. "I thought you were going for my throat."

Victor stared up at him.

"Jack, we didn't actually get a confession," said Ianto.

"Whoops," said Jack. Jack knelt down next to Victor, gently petting his hair. "Sorry, my bad."

Blood bubbled out of Victor's mouth.

Blood, and something else. Jack didn't even have time to flinch back before the acid caught him full in the face. Victor's body shuddered, then went limp.

"Augh!" Jack shouted. "Okay, I'm not sorry!"

Jack wiped fruitlessly at his face. Luckily, none of it had gotten in his eyes this time.

He wondered what to do with the body, but decided it wasn't his problem.

\---

"Oh good, you're here again!" Jack said only a few seconds later, staring at the two cats, who were sprawled leisurely on the roof of his car. "Shoo, get off. Go home!"

Jack could have sworn he saw one of the cats smile at him as they turned away, hopped off, and disappeared into the long grass.

"Well, we might as well follow that lead," Jack said, revving the engine, "Since we're already invested and all."

\---

"This is going to be a little anticlimactic if there isn't anything in the lumber mill," said Ianto, as they pulled once again into Victor's driveway.

"The wizened cock of ages wouldn't have told us to go there if it wasn't important," said Jack.

"Right."

Jack got out of the car and looked up at the house. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake. But Victor  _had_ attacked him first. It wasn't the action of an innocent man.

"Oh great, we're going to have to tell Clare," Jack said, like he'd just realized it.

"Tell me what?" said Clare, and Jack almost jumped. She was standing in the open doorway, watching them with wide, alien eyes.

"Go with the quick and dirty," Ianto advised.

"Okay, Victor's dead," Jack said bluntly. "He tried to kill us."

"Oh," said Clare. For a moment it seemed like she'd take the news with no complaint, but then she sunk to the ground, burying her face in her hands.

"Oh god," she said. "This is all my fault. All of it.  _Everything_."

Jack paced to her side and sat down, patting her back.

"Probably not  _all_ of it," he said, reassuringly.

"You don't understand," she said, sobbing. "Victor only killed Nim because we were going to run away."

"Why didn't you say that earlier?"

"I was  _scared_ , okay?" Clare choked. "I thought, if he'd kill her to keep me here, maybe he'd be crazy enough to kill  _me_ for the same reason!"

"Well, he's dead," said Jack. "Case closed."

"No it isn't." Clare looked up at him, her dark hair sticking messily to her face. "Victor isn't the one who killed Blaire. There's still someone else."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I…" Clare took a deep breath. "I see things, sometimes. I can sense them. I can feel other peoples' emotions, and sometimes, they can feel mine. We all have a weak empathic link, but mine is stronger than the others."

"I thought so," said Jack. "Question, though. If you can share emotions, can you share… other things? I know you've talked to me, but is it possible you could, say, implant fake memories?"

"Oh no," said Clare. "Nothing as strong as that. But I can… influence current thoughts, just a little."

"The thing is," said Jack, "I don't like other people messing around in my head."

Clare looked away, down at her knees.

"…Don't worry," she said quietly. "I didn't put him there. I helped a little in bringing him out, but he was already there."

"What in the world is she talking about?" Jack whispered, tapping his ear.

"No idea," said Ianto.

"Please," said Clare, "You have to help me with one more thing. We have to go to the lumber mill."

"What a crazy random happenstance!" said Jack. "That was already top on my to-do list! Well, maybe not top. It's a long list."

\---

Despite the rumors, there actually  _was_ a path to the lumber mill. It was paved, even. Clare was pointing out directions from the passenger's seat, but Jack thought that he probably would have stumbled over it eventually even without help. Redwood wasn't that large. It was probably on an asteroid.

"There's something I should tell you before we get there," Clare said sheepishly.

"You sure have a lot of those," Jack said. "Go ahead, shoot."

"Well," said Clare. "This is the place where the roots hide away. They'll be difficult to fight with a gun."

"I think we can handle it," Jack said. "We're all the way out here already."

"Oh, we don't have to go back," Clare said, getting a little excited. "Don't worry, I've thought this through. There's a sword under the back seat."

"A sword?" said Ianto.

"A sword," Jack repeated. He grinned. "I can rock a sword."

"Just keep both hands on the shaft," said Ianto. "We don't want a repeat of last time."

They pulled to a stop in front of a massive wood building. It looked more like a giant warehouse than a lumber mill, and the wood it was made of blended oddly with the trees growing around it, like it was all one massive body.

"I'll just… stay in the car," Clare said, hugging her knees to her chest. "You'll know what you're looking for when you see it."

"I'm not sure I like this," Ianto mumbled, as they got out of the car.

"It's just a sword," Jack said, sliding it out of its sheath with an impressive gleam. He swished it in the air a few times; it was heavy and a little unwieldy, but probably more dependable against vines than a revolver.

"Not the weapon, the building."

Jack looked up at it over the point of his sword. It did look a little…  _alive_. That wasn't such a big deal, though. He'd tackled worse. Literally, probably, as he did have a history of tackling things.

"Nah, you heard the girl," Jack said with a grin. "We're on the hunt!"

And with that he plunged through the rusted double-doors and into the mill.

\---

It was the smell that hit him first, a wave of mold and decomposition. The ground was pulpy and moist, clinging to his shoes like mud. It was like a giant compost heap, with rotting leaves and bark in thick, uneven piles.

"They should really place an order on 51st Century air freshener," Ianto quipped.

"You can wait outside, if you want," Jack said, prodding odd protrusions with the tip of his sword.

As he walked deeper into the building the halls became cavernous, walls slick with slime and long tendrils of gunk hanging down from the ceiling. Light came in only through uneven slats in the wood. He coughed. He coughed again. The stench was getting to be worse than corpses, if only because he was more familiar with them. The heat was overbearing, humid and dank.

Jack was starting to notice them, now. Patches in corners that bubbled up and oozed, and tiny tendrils of black weaving through the wood relief. Pulsing black tentacles, and gleaming red egg sacs.

"What are we looking for?" Ianto whispered.

"We'll know," Jack said back, pressing forward. He wondered if they could see him, or sense his heat. They seemed to be leaning in a mass toward him, but sluggishly, as if winding blindly in the dark.

"We might  _really_  need a few swords for this," said Ianto.

They were curling to follow him as he walked, urging him onward, deeper. Curling around his path, but never touching, never striking.

And… he wasn't alone. He could sense it, even if he couldn't see it. Something else echoing his breaths. Something lithe and shuffling.

A long, sticky strand of goo drizzled down into his hair. Jack's grip tightened on his sword.

He looked up.

While it looked down. Down at him with an open, gaping mouth, its claws weaved into the ceiling vines and its spines prickling at him, long, and thin as needles.

"Hello, friend," Jack said, as he slashed up at it. It dodged, wriggling out of the way in a jerky manner, as if pulled by the vines, but impossibly fast. He struck again, but it was on the wall next to him now, head crooked almost upside down. With the third strike, Jack's sword bit into a thick, dark vine.

And then, all hell broke loose. They were swarming at him, coming from all angles. He slashed wildly and managed to sever a few, but more replaced them. He was drenched in bubbling, cloying alien blood, and the roots were weaving around his legs and arms.

The creature was upon him, emerging from the latticework of writhing vines. It had its back talons hooked around his shoulders and its body curled around, its jaws nipping at his coat while its hands-

They were thorns, Jack realized, as the creature jabbed its hand down his throat and twisted. Their claws were thorns.

Jack choked. He couldn't move his legs. He could barely move his arms, but not enough to swing a sword. It was suffocating him, groping into his chest and ripping, tearing. His lungs were straining to pull in air that wasn't there, while the blood spilled in to fill the space.

His vision was flickering. All he could see was its eyes, glinting at him in the dark.

Jack watched the world spin as he fell, but he didn't feel it as he hit the ground. The roots were still curling around him, tighter and tighter, pulling him deeper into the dark.

Into the dark.

* * *

> Chapter 7: **CLEARED**
>
>> TOTAL Number of Days: 3  
>  TOTAL Enemies Defeated: 21  
>  TOTAL Impractical Weapons: 1  
>  TOTAL Number of Continues: 2

 


	9. A Happy Ending

**Finale**

Jack woke up looking at the stars, and not entirely sure how he'd gotten outside. His chest ached and his head was throbbing, drumming with the beat of his stuttering heart. He opened his mouth. Something slid out, something thick, and bitter, and  _squirming_. He choked as it oozed out slowly, sticky in his throat.

Finally, air flooded his lungs in a painful gust. At almost the same time, though, he noticed that the slime was dripping  _up_. A few seconds later, he realized he wasn't looking at the sky at all. He was upside down, who knew how far up, and staring into a thousand glittering eyes.

"Well that's- not- good," Jack coughed. How many creatures were down there? Hundreds? Thousands?

"It's quite the looker," said Ianto.

Jack squinted. One. It was just one giant monster with shifting, rippling flesh. The eyes blinked in a glittering wave. The movement triggered a twinge of nausea, and Jack struggled to keep from heaving. The lingering taste in his mouth didn't help.

"Not to sound pessimistic," said Ianto, "but  _I_ don't have a plan. Do you have a plan?"

"Don't need one," said Jack. "It'll work itself out. Probably."

"I have the utmost faith in you," said Ianto.

There was a grating sound like shifting metal, a settling rumble like falling rocks, a distant hiss. Jack grimaced. It was impossible to tell what was happening in the dark. To start with, though, there was something around his ankles. He'd just have to get it off somehow, and then…

Fall. Fall into that writhing sea of eyes.

With a strain of muscles that he'd definitely feel later, Jack heaved himself up and grabbed his ankles, rocking back and forth haphazardly. The restraints squirmed under his touch. Right, should have expected that.

"Okay, there's step one. Any ideas for step two?" asked Jack, gripping the vines firmly.

"I didn't approve of the first step," said Ianto.

"Hold on, I've got this."

Jack pulled himself up and sunk his teeth into the vine. Its skin gave way startlingly easily, and it did little more than twitch- and then there was blood spurting out of it, right into his face.

"Okay, maybe not my best plan." Jack laughed and spit out a mouthful of blood that was already congealing.

This time, hand over hand, he slowly climbed the vines and righted himself, standing up in their grip and swinging back and forth like a kid at the park.

He couldn't see much better from here, but at least the blood had stopped rushing to his head. Maybe now he could think. –Right! He still had his gun. Jack clung to a vine one-handed and drew the Webley, firing two swift shots. The vines ripped and gave out, and then he was falling.

"Aaaah!" said Jack.

"Wheee," said Ianto.

When they hit the 'ground,' they  _bounced_. Jack stuck the landing like a gymnast, gun still in hand, and then immediately shot into the nearest eye. Underneath him, the creature gargled and hissed.

"This is no way to treat a guest," Jack said, dodging a retaliating tentacle. "You're going to get the worst online review the minute I get out of here."

"I'd be on it already if I had access to wifi," Ianto said reassuringly.

"Well, to be fair," Jack said, shooting tentacles out of his way as he squished slowly forward. "The food wasn't bad, and the maid performed admirably considering."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," said Ianto. "Excellent room service, but the Eldritchian alien was a disappointment."

"Meh, I've had worse." The vines were circling again, massive groups of them that were herding him toward who knew what. "I mean, they're really social-" Ahead of him, he could see the ground splitting and opening up. There was a cavernous smile forming, with great gleaming teeth. "- and always happy to see us."

In the distance, something was  _roaring_. He could hear it rushing toward him, even faster than the vines.

There was a burst of flames, and then he saw it.

"I thought you could take care of yourself!" Clare shouted out the broken window of  _his car_. His car, which now had a flamethrower mounted to the hood, and-

"I knew it needed rockets!" Jack said excitedly.

"It's had them the whole time," said Clare, opening the door for him with the car still moving. "You should have played with more buttons!"

"See, Ianto?" said Jack. "This is what restraint gets you. Nothing but tears."

Ianto sighed. "Could still use a few more light strips."

"Not to interrupt," said Clare, "but you're about to be eaten. Which is fine, I suppose, if that's what you're in to. Who am I to judge?"

Jack laughed and swung into the car. It rocked along dangerously as it bumped over vines and eyes and  _other_ things.

"Hey," said Jack. "Three heads are better than two. Do  _you_ have a plan?"

"Actually, yes," said Clare.

"Don't smirk like that, she's being helpful," Jack said to Ianto. Then to Clare, "What's your plan?"

"We're ramping the car into its mouth," said Clare. Jack stared at her, and she continued, "the trunk is full of explosives. All I have to do is push a button, and kapow, bye bye Mother Tree."

"But why would you want to do that?" asked Jack.

"It's the only way to sever the telepathic link," Clare explained. "There's no way for me to leave Redwoods while I'm still tied to the Mother Tree."

"Okay," said Jack, "But how do you expect to survive the explosion from inside the car?"

"I don't," said Clare. She let go of the wheel and pressed a detonator into Jack's hands. "You will."

Before his eyes, Clare shifted into a frail bestial form, her dress snagging and tearing on long, spindly spines.

"It's the only way," she said, gesturing at the wheel before leaping out the window.

"-Hey!" Jack shouted after her. The car was spinning out of control. He rolled into the driver's seat and grabbed the wheel, hitting the gas at the same time. It was a better plan than he had, even if he hadn't agreed to it.

The wheels screeched. The mouth of the Mother Tree crackled as it spread.

Jack scanned the dashboard, and found to his surprise that Clare was right. There  _were_ a whole lot of buttons he hadn't pressed. Grinning, he pressed every one of them, one after another. Cleaning fluid sprayed into the air. Every light on the car flashed like a strobe. The trunk popped.

The rockets ignited. An autopilot light blinked, and Jack quickly jammed another button- locked forward.

The speed was blinding. He flung open door, which immediately tore off its hinges.

"Buckle up, Ianto," Jack said, as he swung out the door and onto the hood of the car. "It's gonna be a bumpy ride."

The acceleration was pushing him back against the windshield. There was nothing to hold on to. He was slipping. The car was soaring through empty air. Jack vaulted onto the roof, momentum and the angle of descent the only thing keeping him on.

Somewhere to his left, there was a shriek. He glanced over to see Clare, caught up by a tentacle and flailing.

"Karma," said Ianto.

"Hold on-" said Jack, crouched low, his coat billowing out behind him like a cape. "I've  _got_ this."

He pressed the detonator, and leapt from the roof of the car just as it dipped down beneath the lip of the mouth. The force of the blast threw him upward. Arms extended, he snatched Clare out of the air as the tentacle squirmed and dropped her.

That was the last he saw before the world turned blinding white, and he died  _again._

\---

He gasped as he came back to life, clinging desperately to something moving. It was the animalistic form of Clare, dragging him from the wreckage. She looked torn up, but alive. He'd managed to shield her from the brunt of the explosion.

"Hurtsss-" Clare hissed.

"Explosions are like that," said Jack. "Where are we?"

He squinted his eyes to try and see. They were outside,  _really_ outside this time, and the world was burning.

"I think… I'm dying," Clare gasped. "I think we're  _all_ dying."

"What?" said Jack, staggering to his feet.

"I've made a mistake," Clare said. She was barely managing to drag herself along, now. "The Mother Tree- I heard it screaming in my head. We can't- can't live without it- we're dying."

She slumped to the ground, but her eyes were still open. Jack could see her chest raggedly rising and falling as she fought for breath.

"I bet her family would be proud," Ianto said reverently. "If they weren't all dead."

"It's still… worth it…" Clare panted. "They've paid, all of them. Paid in blood. Victor for killing Nim. Blaire for ratting us out. Me, for killing Blaire…"

Everything was on fire. He could hear what sounded like sizzling flesh in the distance. And the wind in the trees- the forest was screaming.

An entire colony was dying.

"All of this, for  _revenge_?" Jack shouted at her. "You're killing a whole colony!"

"Oops, my bad," Clare whispered. Her voice was fading.

"Wait!" Jack said, kneeling down next to her. "If the telepathic field goes down, what happens to-"

"Ianto?" said Clare. Her eyes drifted closed with a final flash of silver. "I told you, he was… already there. There's a connection… I can't explain it. But the door has been opened."

"Clare? Clare!" Jack shouted. But she was already gone. All he could do now was run. Run from the fire that was consuming the planet.

\---

Jack stood on the edge of town, staring at the empty streets of Redwoods. Everywhere was the stench of rotting wood. There were bodies peppered across lawns; some that still looked human, some of them alien. The crickets had burrowed out from the ground, and already their carapaces were flaking away.

"The planet is dead."

Jack whirled around to face the voice from behind him. There were two women standing there in matching suits, one with a blue tie, the other a green. Charlotte and Adelaide.

"You're still alive-" Jack said, staring at them. "Which means you must be…"

He saw now what he hadn't seen from a distance. Their eyes. Blue, and green. They weren't dead because they weren't part of Redwoods' dominant species.

"We tried to help you," Charlotte purred. Next to her, Adelaide opened her mouth to reveal a catlike set of teeth.

"But you're so  _dull_ ," Adelaide finished.

"It was so  _obvious_ ," said Charlotte.

"We were clue cats all along," Adelaide said smugly.

"Cluing me into  _what_?" said Jack. He narrowed his eyes at them.

"How wrong you are." Charlotte grinned.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong," Adelaide said in a sing-song voice. "Every time, we tried to guide you back onto the right path. But you didn't understand…"

"That's it, then?" Jack said incredulously. "You waltz out at the end to gloat, instead of just telling us what you knew to begin with?"

"It was fun!" said Charlotte. "Watching you clean up the mess for us… Thank you, Jack."

Jack gestured broadly around them. "All these people," he said. "So many people have died today."

" _You_ killed them," said Adelaide. "You. Thank you, Jack. We have all this empty land, now…"

"Think of all the money we'll make," Charlotte crooned. "We'll build a mall so big it covers the entire asteroid."

"You…" Jack stared at them. "You think this is convenient? You think this is  _good_?"

"Of course it's good. Those dirty little creatures never would have left, otherwise."

Jack's hand inched toward his holster. His fists clenched.

"I really don't have the patience to deal with this shit," he said, and then he shot them both cleanly through the forehead.

Their bodies slumped to the ground, duly joining the rest of the carnage.

\---

Captain Jack Harkness stood in a bright white room in front of an open teleportation panel, watching flickering signal lights. For a long time he didn't move, or speak, he just stood and stared and tried not to think. He was afraid, because he'd remembered.

"Ianto," Jack whispered, pressing his hand tightly to his ear. The empty seconds ached as they pulsed through him, like scabs being stripped from wounds. "Ianto.  _Ianto_. Ianto Jones, don't do this to me again. I can't go through this again."

No answer. Nothing. Whatever remained of Redwood's telepathic field was gone.

Jack Harkness fell to his knees.

All of this was just another bad dream. Another dream that he woke from gasping for breath, crawling through glass to realize slowly, once again, that he was alone.

"I can't  _do this again!"_ he shouted, slamming his fists into the ground. "I can't. I can't. I can't lose you again, Ianto,  _please_."

Alone, again, and pleading for the voice of a ghost.

"Ianto… Ianto, please. There's nothing left in me to break," Jack whispered.

He sank to the floor, hands on the ground, knuckles bleeding. He couldn't feel them. He couldn't feel anything. It was going to come again, that wave of agony that had already drowned him and torn him apart.

"Please, Ianto… Answer me…"

"Jack?"

Jack's breath caught in his throat.

"…Ianto?"

"Jack. It's dark."

Jack eased himself back against a wall, his eyes out of focus and his entire body quivering.

"Where are you, Ianto? Are you still with me? Can you hear me?"

"It feels like I'm suffocating," Ianto whispered. "Like I can't… I can't… Like it's too small, and I can't breathe."

" _Ianto_ ," Jack said firmly.

"Jack…" said Ianto. "You're still holding on."

Jack was silent. His heart was racing. And still, with every beat, it hurt.

"I can't let you go."

"Jack," said Ianto. "Jack… I can… remember."

"You-"

"All of it. Everything. Jack… I should be dead."

"Don't say that." Jack stood up. He could still feel the weight of him, in his arms. He could still feel that poison coursing through his veins. He was back there, again, powerless to do anything but watch, and plead.

"I was dead," Ianto said, more insistently. "Twice, now, but you're still holding on."

"I tried to move on," said Jack, "But I can't. I'll never find anything that means as much as you."

"I'm… stuck here," said Ianto. "In your mind. I was dying again, but you couldn't let go."

"I'm sorry," whispered Jack.

"So I'm… still here."

"I'm sorry, Ianto, but why would I let you go if I don't have to?" Jack's hands clenched at his coat.

"There isn't room for me in here," said Ianto. "I think I'm still alive, Jack. I think you're right, and I'm still here, but I'm  _trapped_ in your mind and there isn't  _room_."

"Oh god," said Jack. "Ianto, Ianto, are you really…"

"I'm really here. It's really me. I don't know how, but I'm not just part of your subconscious, it's like… It's like I've been sleeping. Seriath pulled me back, and then I… went into you."

Jack pressed both hands against his forehead and closed his eyes.

"Wouldn't be the first time you've been inside me," he said, with a dry laugh. "Ianto Jones… I- I missed you."

"It hurts. It hurts, I have to go back to sleep."

"But you'll still be with me?" Jack said desperately.

"Of course," said Ianto, and Jack could picture his patronized smile. "But you'll have to find somewhere to put me. You have a very large, ah, presence."

"Yes.  _Yes_ ," Jack said, jumping to his feet. "Don't worry, Ianto, I'll never stop looking."

"I'll trust you on that," said Ianto. He sounded drowsy.

"So… what do we do now?" Jack said, scanning over all the buttons and monitors on the control panel.

"Well," said Ianto, "I suppose we find another case to solve."

* * *

> Finale: **CLEARED**
>
>> TOTAL Number of Days: 3  
>  TOTAL Enemies Defeated: ∞  
>  TOTAL Number of Ramps: 1  
>  TOTAL Number of Continues: 3

 


	10. Extra

**Cards**

* * *

**No. 1**  [Captain Jack Harkness]

The main character. He is a man out of time, pulled into a murder investigation by powers beyond his control.

* * *

**No. 2**  [Ianto Jones]

Jack's closest friend, confidant, and lover. After being lost in the line of duty, Jack still holds on tightly to his memory.

* * *

**No. 3** [Nim Sudo]

The first victim. She was a beautiful girl who was curious about the real world. This dangerous path lead ultimately to her downfall.

* * *

**No. 4**  [Blaire Falls]

The second victim, and one of Nim's lovers and co-conspirators. His jealousy and mistrust of Clare became the indirect cause of Nim's death.

* * *

**No. 5**  [Noel Feathering]

A waiter at the diner. She has a sexual history with most of the town, and through it has gained knowledge of many secrets.

* * *

**No. 6** [Hardy Stiff]

The sheriff. Stern and unfriendly. He is prone to leaving his duties in his deputy's hands to pursue things unrelated to the case.

* * *

**No. 7**  [Victor Ames]

The deputy. He is strong willed and devoted to the case, though he might have ulterior motives centered around Jack Harkness.

* * *

**No. 8**  [Clare Ames]

A mysterious girl heavily invested in building space machinery. She possesses weak telepathic and empathic connections.

* * *

**No. 9**  [Merry Weeds]

Nim's legal guardian. Once an outgoing man, he has retreated into his home, which he only rarely leaves. He buries his grief in drugs and alcohol.

* * *

**No. 10**  [Fred Martens]

The doctor. She specializes in medicine and surgery, but has stepped outside her usual medical field to assist in the investigation.

* * *

**No. 11**  [Charlotte & Adelaide Strait]

The owners of most of Redwoods Valley. They are very wealthy, and live in a castle-like mansion on the edge of town. CharAde know more than they are telling.

* * *

**No. 12**  [Boner Owner]

A woman who channels the spirits of the divine phallus. She has a very special touch, and an air of mysticism about her.

* * *

**No. 13**  [Raincoat]

A tool used to hide the identity of the killer. It's an ordinary raincoat.

* * *

**No. 14**  [Spitter Cricket]

Young or hatchling Ericius. They come out during the rain to feed on the nutrients the mother roots pull from the soil. They eat from fratricidal hunts.

* * *

**No. 15**  [Ericius Adult]

Shapeshifting Aliens. Redwood Valley's population have settled a colony on an asteroid to mimic human rural living.

* * *

**No. 16**  [Crawler]

A feral Ericius which has remained bestial into adulthood. It moves very quickly and can scale almost any surface.

* * *

**No. 17**  [Bulldog]

Mindless drones produced to protect the Mother Tree while she feeds. They will kill anything that wanders around during the rain.

* * *

**No. 18**  [Mother Tree]

A very large Ericius with many tentacles that resemble roots. She lives almost entirely underground. All other Ericius in a society are born from her.

* * *

**No. 19**  [Coffee]

The coffee knows all. Ianto's coffee is the most important part of solving a case. All other coffee is vastly inferior.


End file.
